


Neville Longbottom and the Cherry Champion

by Id (idX)



Series: Girl in Red [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Minor Harry Potter/Original Character(s), Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Neville Longbottom & Luna Lovegood, Sally-Anne Perks is a Good Friend, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), ginny weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-02-03 23:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 147,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12758358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idX/pseuds/Id
Summary: As students arrive at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, Neville finds that he's one friend short.  With Rose running errands for Professor Dumbledore, Neville's only hope is that he won't be forgotten.





	1. Bonds of Family

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The following is a non-profit, fan-based parody. _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ is owned by J.K. Rowling, and published by Scholastic and Bloomsbury. Please support the official release.

Hermione didn’t know how to respond. She stared vacantly at the open portal, still coming to terms with the fact that Rose’s parents were alive. Not only that, but they were standing in front of her. She didn’t know what to say, much less do. 

“Hermione?” 

Hermione jolted out of her trance. Her head darted back and forth, trying to figure out who’d spoken. She didn’t recognize the voice, although there were three people whose voices she didn’t recognize standing in front of her. Although, the voice sounded American, so didn’t that mean it wasn’t Sk’lar? 

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked. 

“It’s alright,” Rose’s dad said. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on gathering her thoughts, which proved to be more difficult than she’d expected. She was angry, confused, and hurt all at once. Still, gathering her thoughts had always been easy for her, despite whatever emotions she had. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” she asked Rose. 

“That’s my fault,” Sk’lar said. “I told her it’d be easier if the staff weren’t trying to track down her parents.” 

It made sense, in a way. If Rose had told them her parents were alive, then the staff would’ve just tried sending her back home. If she’d said they were missing, then Professor Dumbledore would’ve tried to find them, and when he couldn’t, it’d make them trust her even less than they already did. 

“And of course after that, you didn’t want me to know you were lying,” Hermione said. 

When Rose did nothing more than nod, no talking, Hermione knew she was sorry. 

“I’m–” 

“Sorry, I know. It’s alright, I guess, just…” 

“No one likes being lied to, Hermione,” Rose’s dad said. “Especially after everything you girls have been through. You’ve depended on Rose to save your life countless times, and right now you’re probably wondering what else she’s lied to you about.” 

Hermione realized that was exactly what she was thinking. She slowly nodded her head as she began mentally listing off everything Rose had ever told her. 

“This is no reason to stop trusting her. She’s the same girl you met when you started here; the same girl that saved you from the troll.” 

Hermione knew he was right, even if she didn’t want to accept it. How could she? She couldn’t tell the difference between lies and truth from Rose. If Rose had lied about something so big, how could Hermione trust her again? 

“I still don’t know,” Hermione said. 

“Then we’ll let you be,” Rose’s dad said. 

“Rose, your brother said some big event happened a few weeks ago,” Rose’s mum said. 

“I found Sirius and Pettigrew, but some traps Pettigrew had set went off when we brought him inside,” Rose explained. “They damaged the castle, but we all worked together to get everyone to safety.” 

“Good work,” her dad said. 

Rose shook her head, all of her normal enthusiasm gone. “We didn’t, though. Atrien, the… one of the workers at the school, died.” 

Hermione glared at Rose. She’d noticed something off about the way Rose had been acting ever since the incident, but she didn’t know what. Now, she had a guess. 

“Is that why you’ve been moping? Just bring her back!” 

“But–” 

“Sixty seconds, girls,” Sk’lar said. 

“We don’t have the time to explain now,” Rose’s dad said, “but it’s not that simple, even on this side of the _gate_.” 

Hermione looked to Rose and saw her friend downcast. For possibly the first time since they’d met, Hermione saw a scared little girl with actual feelings. For a moment, she believed that she could trust Rose again. 

“No need to look so sullen, Rosie,” her dad said. “You’ve grown a lot since Thars.” He glanced back at Rose’s mum, then back at Rose. “Don’t focus on the one you didn’t save, just on the hundreds you did.” 

“Thirty seconds,” Sk’lar said. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Rose said. Hermione knew she couldn’t cry, but it sounded as if she were sobbing. “It feels like you’re dead again. Please don’t go.” 

Rose pressed her hand against the portal, which shimmered when her glove touched it. 

“It’s alright, Rosie,” her dad said, crouching down to put himself on eye-level with her. “We’re always with you in your heart and your memories. Even that abomination couldn’t take us away from you. No one ever can.” 

Rose nodded, and once again, Hermione could see a real little girl trying hard to be brave for her mum and dad. 

“Valignatiejir,” Rose said. “We should call him by his real name. If we don’t, that just proves he’s still winning.” 

“It makes us all proud to hear you say that,” her dad said. 

Her mum didn’t say anything, but gave a broad smile, not that different the smile Rose gave when she was proud of Hermione. 

Rose’s dad stood up as the portal began to close. 

“We’ll talk to you soon, Rosie,” her dad said. 

“Take care until then,” her mum added. 

“See you soon,” Rose said. 

“It was nice meeting you both,” Hermione said. 

“Likewise,” Rose’s dad said. 

After the portal closed, Rose stared into space for another few minutes. 

Hermione had many questions, but she didn’t want to bother Rose. It had to feel like she’d just lost her parents again, but of course Hermione didn’t know. Rose didn’t say a word, and Hermione wasn’t going to make her talk. 

The girls stood in silence for five minutes before Hermione finally broke it. 

“Are you through lying?” Hermione asked. “Are you through keeping secrets?” 

Rose lowered her head, and Hermione had her answer. 

“Good bye, Rose.” 

Hermione turned back to the forest. She didn’t know the way, but she’d think of something. Failing all else, she was sure she could devise a spell like _find the path_ given enough time. 

“I want to be,” Rose said, “but I made promises. They’re not my secrets.” 

“You know everything about me, Rose,” Hermione said, turning to face Rose. “I don’t even know what you’ve told me is true anymore! How do I tell the difference?!” 

Hermione wasn’t expecting an answer, but she stayed anyway. She didn’t move while Rose continued to stare at the ground. It was unnerving to see Rose distraught, even upset, but Hermione reminded herself that Rose wasn’t a hero. Rose got upset just like everyone else, and she lied, just like everyone else. 

“Then let me tell you,” Rose said, offering her hand to Hermione. “I’ll tell you everything, but you’ve got to let me put _mind blank_ on that ring.” 

Hermione stood and thought about it for what felt like hours. She didn’t know what to think. What if Rose just lied to her again? 

Hermione thought back to the troll. The moments she’d stared up at it as it was about to kill her had been the scariest moments of her life. She hated thinking about it, but she remembered how Rose had looked. Standing there, putting herself directly in harm’s way to save Hermione. Every time Hermione had needed Rose, she’d come through for her. Even against the Basilisk, in the end it had been Rose’s enchantment on the hair clip that had saved Hermione’s life. 

_She deserves one last chance._

“The next time you lie to me will be the last time you talk to me,” Hermione said. “Alright?” 

“Understood,” Rose replied. 

Hermione walked over to Rose and held out her hand. 

Rose pulled out her _thought bottle_ , and Hermione watched a red wisp fly into it. Rose took Hermione’s hand in hers, and they shook on it as Hermione’s ring glowed. 

“Alright,” Rose said, using her _thought bottle_ again. “Let’s start from the beginning. I was born on the continent of Luna, which was where my parents happened to be at the time…” 

* * *

“Are you _sure_ you’ll be alright?” Sally-Anne asked Harry as they pulled into King’s Cross. 

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Harry said. “It’s only for a few days, then I’ll be with Sirius. Rose said she’ll meet me at Privet Drive with… I don’t remember his name, one of the knights.” 

“Alavel,” Ron said. “Alavel’s going with you, and Taltria’s going with Sally-Anne. If I were to guess, next year she’ll finish off with sending something with me and something with Neville.” 

“I’m already sending someone with you,” Rose said from across the aisle. 

“Who?” 

Rose pointed to Ginny. 

“Meet your little sister. I also send you with her.” 

“I feel safer already,” Ginny said with a smile on her face. 

“Rose, we’re not allowed to use magic outside of school,” Sally-Anne said. “What if–” 

“There must be something for self-defence,” Rose said. 

That relaxed Sally-Anne. Even in her laws, it was alright to defend yourself. The Magical World was often backwards, but even they had to have a rule about self-defence. She wasn’t as close to Ron as she was to Harry, but Ron had taken to asking for her help on anything regarding Hermione. Sally-Anne was happy that her friends were confiding in her, and it made her feel closer to them. 

“There’s nothing,” Hermione said. “First offence is supposed to be a warning, but after that, you’ll get expelled, and possibly arrested. Not thrown in Azkaban, but arrested. You can’t prove that you fought in self-defence, so I don’t know if they’ll care. Everyone under 17 gets sent a letter for wanded magic.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. 

“Yes, it is,” Hermione said. “It stops us from practicing over the summer, or using harmless aesthetic magic.” 

“Huh?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Aesthetic is like your looks,” Ron said. “She means she can’t use magic to make herself look pretty.” 

Sally-Anne knew Ron didn’t mean it the way he said it, but what surprised her was that _Hermione_ seemed to understand that as well. He still received an elbow from his sister, but Hermione remained calm. 

“Ow!” Ron whined. 

“It’s alright, Ginny,” Hermione said. “He didn’t mean it like that, although for the record, I only want to use magic to deal with my hair. And maybe my teeth.” 

Rose perked up. 

“Can I–” 

“Do you know how to deal with teeth?” Hermione asked. 

“You of all people should know how _Serendipity_ works,” Rose replied. “All I’d have to say would be ‘ _d’so Bryn da neto lo’_ , and you’d be fine.” 

“What does that mean?” Ginny asked. 

“Probably ‘I wish Brain’s teeth were smaller’,” Hermione said. “Rose, I respect your ability to fight, but–” 

“Did I or did I not help make your hair look amazing?” Rose asked. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re sending Taltria with me,” Sally-Anne said, getting them off the subject when she saw Hermione’s distress. “I’ll be fine. I can use the Shield Rune if there’s an emergency. Why not send her with Neville?” 

“Toad can use his sword outside of school,” Rose said. “I’m less worried about him than I am about you. Besides, I’m sending Int with him.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better for me to have Taltria to practice with?” Neville asked. 

Rose paused, evidently deep in thought. 

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rose said. “We’ll see.” 

When the last of the students filed out, the group got up and followed them. Waiting outside the train for them was Professor McGonagall, who followed Harry to meet his aunt and uncle. 

“Dursley,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “Potter will only be staying with you for the next 12 days. After that, he will be living with his godfather. Considering Potter’s safety has become a concern, Peta-Lorrum will be meeting you at your house with his new bodyguard. Any problems with this can be taken up with her. Good day.” 

Professor McGonagall ignored the shouts and screams from Uncle Vernon as she left them alone. Vernon turned to glare at Harry, but Harry stared straight back at him. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Harry said. “In 12 days, you’ll be a distant memory.” 

“Why you–” Vernon said as he grabbed Harry’s arm. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

Harry recognized Sirius’s voice, and knew he wasn’t alone. Sirius was at his side in an instant, and Sally-Anne and her parents weren’t far behind. 

“We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we, Mr. Dursley?” Sally-Anne’s mum asked. 

Vernon eyed the crowd gathering around them. The Weasleys were now behind him, the Grangers were watching from not far off, Tutela looked like she was getting ready to lunge at them, and even Neville remained fixated on them. 

Vernon released his grip on Harry, who rubbed his arm. 

“Move it,” Vernon growled. 

“Why don’t you ask nicely?” Sirius said. 

For a second, Harry worried that Vernon would punch Sirius, even with everybody watching. Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Vernon so angry at anyone. 

“Move, _please_ ,” Vernon said through gritted teeth, his face turning purple. 

“Sure,” Harry said. 

“I’ll see you soon, Harry,” Sirius said. 

Sally-Anne waved to him. “Bye, Harry!” 

Harry waved back at her as he followed the Dursleys out of the platform. Dudley shoved him aside when they got in the car, but no one spoke a word the entire drive. Harry stared out the window the entire time, wondering how Alavel was going to handle the Dursleys. Surely they’d freak out when they saw him; he was covered in gold armor, after all. 

When they pulled into Privet Drive, Harry saw Rose sitting beside a burly man he’d never seen before. The man looked ordinary compared to Rose, whose only attempt to blend in was shrinking her cloak to a shawl. Except for her hair, Rose looked almost normal. Either that, or Harry had grown so accustomed to seeing Rose that he didn’t notice anymore. 

Vernon’s fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He climbed out of the car, and Rose opened the door to Number Four Privet Drive. 

“Don’t want to make a scene,” Rose said on her way inside the house. 

The moment everyone was inside, Vernon rounded on Rose. 

“Look here, _girl_ , I don’t care who you are, this is _my house_! I demand that you take this man and–” 

Vernon was silenced by _Crimson Thorn_ unfolding in Rose’s hand. The Dursleys all backed away from Rose. 

“Dursley Family, meet Alavel,” Rose said, motioning to the man beside her. “He doesn’t eat or sleep, and his sole purpose here is to ensure Harry’s safety and well-being. Treat Harry like a person and neither Alavel nor I will bother you.” 

Harry watched Vernon get angrier by the minute. His uncle couldn’t _do_ anything without risking Rose going after him with _Crimson Thorn_ , and that just made him all the more furious. 

“Any questions?” Rose asked. 

* * *

Harry counted down every second for the next 12 days. He could hardly contain his excitement over living with Sirius. 

“Don’t build it up too much,” Alavel told him. “It’ll only make it worse when it’s not everything you imagined.” 

Harry couldn’t possibly see how it could be worse than living with the Dursleys. It would be just like Sally-Anne said; a place where he’d be loved and appreciated. There would be someone to tell him more about his mum and dad. It would be everything for which he’d ever hoped. 

Harry was glad, in a way, that Rose had sent Alavel with him. He was quiet and didn’t do much other than sit with Harry and help with the chores. Still, it was someone with whom Harry could talk about Hogwarts, and one glare from Alavel would stop the Dursleys in their tracks. Those 12 days were the best of Harry’s time at Privet Drive. 

When the day came for Harry to go with Sirius, he sat on the steps with Alavel, waiting for him to arrive. 

“Would you get inside?” hissed Aunt Petunia. “Somebody’s going to see you!” 

“So what?” Harry snapped. “I’m sure they’ll see me when I’m walking down the street with Sirius.” 

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Alavel shaking his head. 

“We are leaving in a few minutes,” Alavel said. “Why not comply for that time?” 

Harry glared at the Nimblewright, angry that he would even suggest cooperating with the Dursleys. They’d never done _anything_ for him! He certainly wasn’t about to do them any favors. 

“Why should I?” 

Alavel responded with a sigh, which frustrated Harry even more. 

“Don’t treat me like a kid.” 

“Don’t act like a kid, Master Scarface, and I won’t.” 

Harry clenched his fists, angered by the nickname Rose had given him. Before he knew what it was, he’d liked his scar. It was unique, something to set him apart from the so-called family that he hated so much. Now it seemed like that was all anyone saw when they looked at him, and Rose was no different. 

“I _hate_ that name,” he muttered. 

“Then earn another one.” 

Harry spent the next few minutes glowering at the entrance to Privet Drive, willing Sirius to walk into view. 

_Of course he’s late,_ Harry thought. _Everyone’s got something better to do than spend time with me._

Alavel sat in silence and stared off into the distance. Harry often wondered what went on inside his bodyguard’s head, but this wasn’t one of those times. All Harry wanted to know was where Sirius was. 

“Where is he?” Harry hissed. 

“He’ll be here in 12 rounds,” Alavel replied. 

Harry couldn’t remember how much a round was supposed to be, nor did he care. He just wanted Sirius to walk around the corner and be there. 

“Get inside!” Uncle Vernon barked. “If you don’t, I’ll–” 

“You’ll what?” Alavel asked in his baritone voice. He looked over his shoulder at Uncle Vernon while Harry continued to stare daggers at the street. 

Harry could almost hear the smoke coming out of Uncle Vernon’s ears as someone assumed authority over him in his own home. Harry tried not to laugh at his uncle, knowing that Alavel would scold him if he did. 

According to both Alavel and Rose, Rose enhanced the Nimblewright specifically to accommodate Harry. From what Harry understood, Rose had used the wrong word. Alavel didn’t accommodate Harry, he _handled_ him. Like Sally-Anne, Alavel assumed Harry wasn’t going to talk, and took to reading his body language instead. When he talked, he was either calm or condescending, the latter of which infuriated Harry. The worst was when Alavel stood up for Harry’s aunt and uncle. He also stood up for Harry against the Dursleys, forcing them to give him a share of food equal to Dudley’s (who was currently on a diet, although Harry neither knew nor cared if the two were related), or leaving him alone when they started to yell at him. 

In fact, it was starting to sound like Rose had instructed Alavel to keep everyone from fighting. This confused Harry because that was unlike Rose in almost every way. Harry always thought that she reveled in fighting, and got bored if there was nothing to challenge her. 

“In 24 seconds, Sirius will come around that corner,” Alavel said, “and then we’ll be gone for nearly a year. That will give you plausible deniability for 12 months if someone happens to see us.” 

Even as annoying as Alavel could be, he had a way of speaking that made Harry _want_ to listen to him, even if he didn’t agree with him. Any condescension would be tuned out, but Alavel picked up on it immediately and spoke to Harry like he was a person. Not famous like students at Hogwarts often did, not a monster like his aunt and uncle, but a normal person, like Sally-Anne did. 

“Master Scarface,” Alavel said, nodding towards the entrance to Privet Drive. 

Harry saw Sirius walking towards them like it was any other day. If not for a quick hand from Alavel, Harry would’ve rushed off to greet him, but instead waited until Sirius was in the driveway. 

“You’re here,” Harry said, forgetting the time and place. It didn’t matter that he was at the Dursleys’ or that Sirius was a few minutes late, only that he was there and Harry got to leave. Harry rushed over to greet Sirius, who literally welcomed Harry with open arms. 

“Sorry I’m late, Kid,” Sirius said. “Got lost on my way here and didn’t want to ask directions.” 

Alavel stood up from his spot on the porch, nodded to the Dursleys, and picked up Harry’s pack. Harry called down Headwig, who’d been circling the neighborhood for the past hour. 

“Got everything?” Sirius asked. 

“Right here,” Harry said, taking the pack from Alavel. “It’s–” 

“Bigger on the inside, I know,” Sirius said. “Crookshanks told me when I couldn’t find Ron’s things at Hogwarts.” He stuck his thumb towards the Dursleys. “Wanna say goodbyes?” 

Harry shook his head and held back a laugh. “No.” 

“Alavel, you all set?” 

Alavel nodded, silently taking up the rear of their group as they left Privet Drive. 

“Come on,” Sirius said. “First order of business is buying you some clothes that _fit_. Never mind, first order of business is getting something to eat. What are you hungry for, Kid?” 

“Anything,” Harry said, unfazed by the nickname “Kid”. 

* * *

“I’m gonna go outside!” Neville called to his gran. 

“What? Why?” 

“Fresh air, that sort of thing.” 

Closing the door behind him, he looked around to confirm that no one was watching him. He was the most boring person in the neighborhood, so no one bothered to spy on him. The Longbottoms never did anything interesting, and everyone knew it. 

Neville took a deep breath and drew the Sword of Gryffindor. 

_Feet apart. Don’t lock your knees; you’re more mobile that way._

Neville bent his knees, keeping his feet roughly in line with his shoulders. 

_Be ready to move. You don’t have much in the way of Strength, apart from what I gave you, but you can make up for that with speed._

Neville twirled the sword around his hand, a maneuver that had taken him days to get right. Fortunately, Rose had been there to heal him every time he’d cut himself with the blade while practicing what Rose insisted was a vital trick to master. 

_It’s intimidating when they see you handling a sword like that. That’s why I always twirl_ Crimson Thorn _when I draw him. Then stab him in the ground so they know I’m not afraid to stab them in the face!_

For the past several months, Neville practiced whenever he’d had the chance. He repeated everything Rose had told him in his head until he’d memorized it. Neville worked hard, determined to prove to Rose that she wasn’t wasting her time with him. 

_Hundreds of years ago, this book called the_ Tome of Battle _was discovered in an underground tomb. It described a sort of magic for those that fight rather than use spells. It called it “sword magic”. Once word spread and the techniques were no longer kept secret, that was the only way to go if you were serious about fighting._

His heart still sank thinking about “sword magic”. Rose insisted that it would help him to learn an equivalent, but he was no good at _any_ magic. For months Neville had tried to get by without using magic during practice, but still Rose insisted. 

Neville took a deep breath and ran through the moves Rose had shown him. 

“I don’t need magic. I can’t do magic.” 

_Of course you can! And it’s not magic, otherwise Shadow wouldn’t have touched it. She_ hates _magic! It’s something like concentrating on your inner beatstick and pummeling your opponent senseless. I’ll talk with Harold. He’ll know._

Neville practiced the same moves until his arm was sore, but still he kept going. 

_She’ll just give up on me if I can’t do it. Everyone gives up on me in the end._

Rose wanted him to try wandless magic, not like Hermione, but just a few spells to help him with his swordplay. Using magic with a wand was hard enough for him. Even with Hermione helping him, he couldn’t get wandless magic. 

“I don’t get it,” he whispered. “Why can’t I do it?” 

He practiced for another half hour before calling it a day. The Sword of Gryffindor returned to his glove, and he dragged his feet inside. 

“There you are,” his gran said from her reading chair. “What were you doing out there?” 

“Getting some exercise,” he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. 

“You got something from Professor Sprout,” she said, handing him a small package. 

Neville took the package and tore it open. Inside he found a vial of a clear, orange liquid, a book, and a letter. 

_Dear Neville,_

_We never had that chat about your sword, so I’ll let you know: The Sword of Gryffindor (Yes, I know what it is) uses goblin magic. That means that not only will you never need to clean it, but it will absorb materials that will strengthen it._

_I’ve sent you some oil from the medallyne plant. This recently discovered plant secretes an oil that has the interesting property of making blood thicker. It has also been discovered that the oil mixes well with metal, often making it stronger. Make sure you wear your gloves if you try to handle it._

_My final gift is a book I found some time ago on legendary swords, the Sword of Gryffindor being one of them. There are many bits of information I thought you’d find helpful._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Sprout_

“Well, what does she say?” his gran asked. 

“Professor Sprout and me were talking about the Sword of Gryffindor the other day,” Neville said. “She found a book about it she thought I’d like.” 

Before his gran could ask more questions, he took everything to his room to start applying the oil to the sword. 

* * *

_Dear Hermione,_

_I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they’re having the Quidditch World Cup in Britain this year! Dad pulled a lot of strings and got us some seats in the top box. We got enough for the family plus one. Since Harry’s already going with Sirius, we were hoping you’d go with us. I know Quidditch isn’t your thing, but Ginny and me were both hoping you’d go. Also, I think the Twins like you, so be afraid._

_If you want, Mum’s also invited you to stay for the month. Oh! It’s at the end of August, not long before classes start. We’re gonna stay at the campgrounds there, and take a portkey to get there. I don’t know if you’ve ever traveled by portkey, but if you haven’t, it feels a lot like when Rose teleports people. I know you go camping, so we wouldn’t expect you until after._

_Rose is welcome to stay with us too, but we couldn’t get another ticket, so she wouldn’t be able to go to the match. Mum’s staying home. Bill and Charlie will also be there._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Ron_

Hermione stared at the letter, not sure what to say. Of all their friends, she’d been chosen over the others, with the possible exception of Harry. As Ron had mentioned, she didn’t much care for Quidditch, but it was still kind of them to think of her. 

“What’s Cohort say?” Rose asked. 

“The Quidditch World Cup’s being held in Britain this year, and his family’s got an extra ticket,” Hermione said. 

“So his parents will be there,” her dad asked. “Right?” 

“His dad will,” Hermione said. “It sounds like his dad, _all_ his brothers, and Ginny. It’s not til the end of August, but I’ve been invited to their house to stay the month.” 

“What about Rose?” her mum asked. 

“She can stay with them, but–” 

“I decline,” Rose said. “I’m already planning on staying with Moon and her dad.” 

“Wait, what?” Hermione said. “When were you gonna tell _me_ this?” 

“After you finished reading your letter,” Rose said. 

Hermione didn’t know how to handle that. It was just so odd not having Rose right there with her. Christmas holiday was strange enough on its own. In past years she’d enjoyed the break from her quirky friend, but lately she’d come to appreciate her. Not having Rose by her side made Hermione a little anxious. 

“Hermione?” 

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her mum. 

“Sorry.” 

“Moon is Luna, right?” Hermione’s mum asked her. 

“Yeah,” Hermione said, turning to Rose. “You did ask her first, right?” 

“Yes,” Rose replied. “Tutela gave me their answer a few hours ago. Her dad said he’d be happy to have me, so long as I bring something new to show him. He really likes my equipment.” 

“I can see that,” Hermione said, thinking back on what she’d heard about Luna’s eccentric father. 

“Do you want to go to this match?” her dad asked. 

Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted to go, but she was also handling the news that Rose might not be staying with her. It felt odd, and she couldn’t tell one from the other. Staying with the Weasleys wouldn’t be any different, except she wouldn’t have Rose or Sally-Anne there with her. She felt bad about leaving Sally-Anne out of it, especially since they’d faced nearly everything else together since the troll. 

“What about Sally-Anne?” Hermione asked. “It wouldn’t be the same without her.” 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t want to miss her dad’s play,” her mum said. “Speaking of, I think it would be fun to all go see it, assuming there’s no reunion this year. Why are you being invited for the whole month?” 

“I dunno, that’s just what it says,” Hermione said. “Rose, can you take us to the Burrow later so we can talk with them about this in person?” 

“Sure.” 

“Before we do anything,” her dad said, “you need to decide if you actually want to go.” 

“I think I do,” Hermione said. “I think it might be fun to go.” 

“So long as that’s what you want,” her dad said. 

“You girls also got your Hogwarts supplies lists,” her mum said, handing them each a letter. 

“That’s interesting,” Hermione said as she scanned the list. “‘A formal gown or robes’. What’s happening this year that we’ve got to have formal attire?” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was still reading her letter. 

“Rose?” 

“They sacked Professor Lupin,” Rose said. “I liked him!” 

“Didn’t you say he was a werewolf?” Hermione’s mum asked. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Hermione said. “Rose gave him an amulet that stops him from transforming so long as he wears it. How could they sack him?! He’s the best defence professor we’ve had!” 

“They’re replacing him with an ex-Auror, Alastor Moody,” Rose said. “Yet another professor I’ve got to keep in line. Although, he was handpicked by Professor Dumbledore, so he’s got that going for him.” 

“Can’t you let the staff do that?” Hermione’s dad asked. 

“Like I let the staff handle the Basilisk or Sirius Black?” Rose asked. 

“Point taken.” Her dad turned to her. “Speaking of Hogwarts, just so we’re clear, I want to run through this again. Mad man escapes prison.” 

“Yes,” Hermione said. 

“The Ministry sends demons that literally feed on human souls and happiness.” 

“Now gone,” Rose said. 

“These _things_ give everyone nightmares,” her mum said, “that ended up with Hermione hallucinating.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Hermione said, feeling small as she always did when the topic of her incident with Ron was discussed. 

“It’s alright now, Sweetheart,” her mum replied, placing her hand on Hermione’s. 

“Turns out this man is innocent,” her dad continued, “and your friend’s rat isn’t really a rat. After you catch him, the castle comes down on top of you, and most of your friends, yourself included, nearly died.” 

“Firecracker almost got run over, Toad nearly got crushed, Princess–” 

“Thank you, Rose, we don’t need a play-by-play,” her dad said. “Most of your friends nearly died, and you still want to go back.” 

“I–” Hermione began. She looked over at Rose for support, but was surprised to find she wasn’t going to get any. 

“Don’t look at me. If it were up to me, I’d send you to Beauxbatons.” 

“What?” 

“Like your dad said, four of our friends almost died. Atrien _did_ die. You saw the house-elves at the funeral. You know how upset they all were?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Imagine if that were _you_. Your family, apart from your parents, would never know what happened to you. Think about your cousin, what’s-her-name.” 

“Which cousin?” Hermione asked. 

“Probably Estelle,” her dad said. “Who, according to your Uncle Paul, is rather eager to see you and Rose again.” 

“Yeah, that one,” Rose said. “The funny one. She’d never know what happened to you either. You’d just be gone, poof, and they’d have to lie to their own family every time they saw them.” 

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking hard about that. It hurt her to lie to her parents. Even the small lie that she’d dropped the _condition conch_ in her fight with Sirius instead of leaving it behind in her room ate away at her. Having been lied to by Rose still stuck in the back of her mind. 

She couldn’t just give up. She loved it at Hogwarts, loved learning everything there was, and, possibly most of all, loved her friends. Hermione couldn’t just leave them and take the easy way out. It felt… wrong. 

“A few years ago, maybe I would’ve taken the chance to leave. If the Dementors had been there our first year, I would’ve left. I’m surprised more people didn’t. But I can hold my own until you get there.” 

“So long as you don’t drop the _conch_ again,” her father said with a hint of irritability. 

“I’ve been working on wandless summoning for the _conch_ ,” Hermione said. “That and my wand. So if I lose them, I can just get them back. Ron always uses summoning at close range, but you don’t have to. In theory, so long as I know where something is, I can summon it from the castle if I’m on the grounds.” 

Her parents looked at her, and she wasn’t sure if they didn’t understand or didn’t believe her. 

“I promise, I’ll be fine.” 


	2. Out in the Countryside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry learns, Ron grows, and Rose strikes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** In the countryside or city, J.K. Rowling still owns Harry Potter.

Harry woke up to a dark house. He panicked for a moment, worried that everything had just been a dream. As his vision adjusted, he remembered he was still in Sirius’s flat. 

_It’s alright. Still in Sirius’s flat, just like the last few nights._

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t have taken him.” 

Harry sat up when he heard voices in the other room. 

“No one wants to be raised by a werewolf, Sirius.” 

He checked the clock, straining to see it in the dark. It was nearly midnight. 

“Twelve years, Moony! He was with those _people_ for 12 years!” 

Harry strained to listen to the voices. He was sure they were in the kitchen, and it sounded like Sirius and Professor Lupin were talking. What was Professor Lupin doing there, especially as late as it was? 

“Keep your voices down,” a new voice said. “Lord Scarface will hear you.” 

“Why does she have you call them ‘Lord’ and ‘Lady’?” Professor Lupin asked. 

“It is not my place to question My Lady’s orders.” 

Harry crept over to his door, and cracked it open just enough to see what was going on. Beyond the open living room, lay the kitchen, where Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Alavel sat around the table. 

“Did you know how they were treating him?” Sirius asked Professor Lupin. “Like he didn’t exist. I bet my family treated Kreacher better than those people treated him, and Kreacher was punished with the Cruciatus Curse!” 

“If you call them ‘Those people’, it makes you just as bad,” Alavel said. 

_Alavel standing up for the Dursleys,_ Harry thought. _Sounds about right._

“Alavel’s right,” Professor Lupin said. “As horrible as they are, they’re still his family.” 

“Why? Because they share blood with Lily?! So what?! We’re his family too!” 

“ _You’re_ his family, Sirius,” Professor Lupin said. “Lily and James were my friends too, but–” 

“But what? You’d rather he stayed with them than with you?” 

“Yes! He’d have to go to bed scared every night during the full moon!” 

Alavel glanced over at Harry, who jumped back in surprise. Alavel had looked right at Harry, as if he’d known Harry was awake. 

_How good’s Alavel’s hearing?_

“So take your potion. You’re harmless while you’ve got it. It’s no reason to ignore your responsibilities to Harry!” 

Harry found his pack in the dark and pulled his invisibility cloak over him. After he was sure he wouldn’t be seen, he returned to the door. 

“You’re not one to talk about ignoring responsibility.” 

“Wormtail tricked us and got me locked up! I’ve hardly been ignoring responsibility! You’re the one who quit the job you’ve always wanted for no reason.” 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat when he heard those words. Professor Lupin quit? He was Harry’s favorite professor, not to mention the best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor they’d had since Harry’d been at Hogwarts. Why would he quit? 

“Sirius, you know the reason.” 

“No, I don’t know the reason, Moony.” 

Lupin rolled his eyes, looking agitated for the first time Harry could remember. “Please stop calling me that.” 

“Why? It doesn’t matter anymore. The girl said–” 

“The girl being My Lady Rose,” Alavel said, glowering as if to tell something to the others. 

“And I trust her, but this necklace she made me doesn’t cut it for people. I’m still a werewolf, and if people ever found out that I was teaching, Professor Dumbledore would go down in flames. I’m not going to do that to him.” 

“What are they gonna do? Analyze your blood or something?” Sirius laughed at the idea. “You won’t change anymore, remember? You proved it last week! If anyone says you’re a werewolf, you can prove you’re not.” 

“But I am! Tons of people have given me miracle cures, and some of them even stop me changing for one night, but none of them are permanent, and none of them change what I am.” 

“My Lady Rose made the _New Moon Amulet_ herself.” Alavel’s deep voice echoed through the empty flat. “It will never fade or stop working. Doubting her is pointless.” 

“I don’t doubt that she thinks it will work, but this isn’t the first time someone’s done something like this. I’ve learned not to get my hopes up.” 

Harry crept out of his room towards the kitchen. He wanted a better view of what was going on. When did Rose make Professor Lupin a necklace? Was it like Sally-Anne’s necklace that Rose made? 

“If you need more proof, wait until the next full moon,” Alavel said confidently. “After that, any concerns you have will be dashed.” 

“See?” Sirius asked. “Nothing to worry about. Pomfrey herself said Sally-Anne would’ve died if not for–” 

“Gentlemen.” 

“What?” Sirius asked, turning to Alavel. 

Alavel nodded towards the entrance to the kitchen where Harry stood. Sirius followed his gaze, frowned, then looked back to Alavel. 

“What?” he repeated. 

“Lord Scarface, while we may not be able to see you under that, as My Lady Rose has pointed out, we can still hear you.” 

Harry didn’t move. He took small breaths, making as little sound as possible. 

Professor Lupin raised his wand and a burst of flour sprang out, covering Harry in white powder, rendering his cloak useless. 

Harry pulled the cloak off and bunched it up in his hands. He looked down at the flour in disgust. 

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Sirius said. “We didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Hello, Harry,” Professor Lupin said. 

“Hello, Professor Lupin.” 

“I’m not a professor anymore, Harry,” Professor Lupin said. “You can just call me Remus.” 

“Or Moony,” Sirius muttered, looking away from Remus. 

“Don’t start,” Remus said. 

“I don’t like it when Rose calls me Scarface either,” Harry said. “Alavel said I had to earn a different nickname if I want one.” 

“Have you got something against flour?” Sirius asked, seeing the look of disgust on Harry’s face. 

“One of Rose’s training exercises involved covering the room in flour,” Harry said, glowering at the flour until Remus banished it. “When I still didn’t get the point, she blew it up. Apparently, flour explodes.” 

Remus’s eyes darted to the ceiling and his brow bunched up. His odd expression drew the attention of Sirius and Alavel, and after a moment during which he tried to recall something, his eyes returned to Harry. “How did I never notice that?” 

“Rose always fixed us up before letting us go so no one noticed.” 

“How’d you sleep?” Sirius asked. 

“Well…” 

“Apart from us waking you.” 

“Fine,” Harry said. 

He caught Alavel eyeing him, not quite glaring, but not just staring. Harry had worked out that it was Alavel’s way of telling Harry to tell the truth. 

“Alavel’s giving you that look,” Sirius said, picking up on it too. “Mind telling me what’s bothering you?” 

“It’s fine,” Harry said. “Just… nothing.” 

“Do I need to get Sally-Anne in here to slap you again?” Sirius asked. “Cos I will. Don’t think I won’t.” 

Harry laughed, and Remus smiled. 

“I had this weird dream,” Harry said. “That’s what woke me up, actually. I think Voldemort was there, and this man I didn’t recognize. They were talking about some plan. I couldn’t make out most of it.” 

Sirius and Remus exchanged looks. 

The dream worried Harry, as did the look Sirius was giving him. 

“Let me or Alavel know right away if this happens again,” Sirius said. “Okay?” 

“Sure,” Harry said. 

“I don’t mean to frighten you, but it might be important,” he continued. “It also might be nothing, but better safe than sorry.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Professor… erm, Remus, did you mean what you said? You quit?” 

Remus nodded, his face dark. 

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“No it isn’t,” Harry said. “You were the best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor we’ve had, even one of the best professors. How could you quit?” 

“Yeah, Moony,” Sirius said. “Why’d you quit?” 

Alavel glared at Sirius, but Harry held fast. If he could convince Remus that quitting was a bad idea, maybe he’d come back. 

“Harry, even with Rose’s help, I’m still a werewolf, and Snape–” 

“ _Professor_ Snape,” Alavel corrected him. 

“Really?” Sirius scoffed. 

“He’s right,” Remus said. “Professor Snape knows, and he’s never liked us. I don’t think he’d risk Professor Dumbledore, even to get back at us, but it’s still better to air on the side of safety.” 

“What happened to make him hate you so much?” Harry asked. 

“It’s a long story, and you need to get back to bed,” Sirius said. 

Harry looked to Alavel for help, but the construct shook his head. 

_Figures._

“Good night, Harry,” Remus said. “It was good to see you again.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

“Night,” Sirius said as Harry returned to his room. 

He tossed the cloak on a chair and climbed back into bed. He was having dreams about Voldemort, and Remus had quit. Worse, Sirius wouldn’t tell him anything. Harry didn’t know why, but he wished for a moment that he were back at the Dursleys. It had to be better with Sirius than with them. Until that night, Sirius had treated him like a normal person. 

Why was Sirius now treating him differently? Had he done something, or would it always be this way? 

* * *

“So I hear you’ve had an interesting time at Hogwarts,” Charlie said as he made yet another attempt to fend off his brother’s attack. 

“That’s _one_ word for it,” Ron said. “Check.” 

“Yet somehow, you’ve still had time to improve.” 

Charlie moved his last bishop to block Ron’s castle. 

“Let’s see if I can remember this,” Charlie said. “A troll broke in, you stopped You-Know-Who from rising to power, nearly died against a basilisk, then you and Ginevra _killed_ that basilisk, then stopped some sort of earthquake.” 

“Not really,” Ron said. “It wasn’t an earthquake, and we didn’t stop it. Scabbers was really Peter Pettigrew in disguise, and he set up exploding runes so he could distract everyone long enough to escape because he framed Sirius Black and didn’t want to die. Rose said he needed something big to keep her occupied so he could escape with a time turner, but she stopped him before he could use it.” 

“Which one’s Rose?” 

“The one with the red hair, not like ours, but _red_ red. The nutter.” 

Charlie looked down at the board and grimaced. 

“And who’s your chess partner?” 

“Hermione.” 

“Right, your girlfriend.” 

Ron flushed and barked an order at his pieces, many of whom snickered. 

“She’s _not_ my girlfriend!” Ron snapped. 

Ron glanced down and caught some of his pieces nodding at Charlie. 

“Oi!” 

“Of course she’s not,” Charlie said, traces of a grin appearing on his face. “You just had me ask Rupert for an advanced copy of Christine’s next book for her. And the Twins said they’ve never seen you so upset…” 

Ron knew his brother was teasing him, and it was beyond annoying. 

“She’s not–” 

“I’m just saying, you seem awful fond of her,” Charlie said. “Even _Christine_ knew who she was, and that’s saying something.” 

“So?” Ron said. “Checkmate.” 

“Women like her will get snatched up quickly,” Charlie said, unphased by his defeat. “You’d best figure out how you feel, cos one day you’re gonna look up and she’ll be in the arms of someone else.” 

“How would you know?” Ron asked. 

“You learn these things when you’re a dreamy, hopeless romantic like myself,” Charlie said in a voice that dripped of arrogance. 

Ron began snap at Charlie, but he stopped when he remembered sitting with Hermione near the Whomping Willow. It was one of his happiest memories, so much so that he’d finally conjured a ball of light with the Patronus Charm with it. He’d been too embarrassed to say anything about it to anyone, so no one knew what memory he’d used. Still, over the past few months, the same question danced around Ron’s head: _I don’t_ like _her, do I?_ It wasn’t long before Ron realized he didn’t know the answer. He kept telling himself she was just his friend, but something still seemed off about it. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

“Hermione’s just a friend,” Ron said. “No different than Harry or Sally-Anne or Rose.” 

Charlie pressed his lips together, an expression with which Ron was intimate. Ron glared at Charlie in anticipation of the condescending remark that would certainly follow. 

“You don’t sound so sure,” Charlie said without the slightest hint of condescension. 

“I–” 

“You don’t have to be defensive with me. You’ve always been my favorite sibling because you know better than anyone what it’s like to grow up alone in someone else’s shadow. I went through that too, and what you might not know is that it makes it hard to trust people. You never want to show weakness because you’re afraid people are going to jump on it the second you do.” 

Ron didn’t know how to take that. Charlie was the coolest! Everyone talked about what a great Seeker he was, or about how popular he’d been, or how clever he was. Even Wood had said Charlie could’ve gone on to play Quidditch for the national team if he hadn’t chosen Romania instead. How had he ever had problems living in someone else’s shadow? 

“You?” Ron asked. 

“Bill,” Charlie replied. “I got to Hogwarts and everyone immediately pegged me as ‘Bill’s kid brother’. I had to live up to that, and I didn’t get to be _me_.” 

“Tell me about it,” Ron muttered. 

“It wasn’t as bad, being only Bill and I for a while, but I still hated it. Any mistake made me feel like a kid again, and Bill lecturing me was the _worst_. Still, I got by and made a name for myself.” 

Ron thought about that for a moment. He didn’t like the thought of being “Harry Potter’s friend” or “Rose Peta-Lorrum’s friend”, but it was how things always went. No one saw him as a real person, just a sidekick. Even Rose called him “Cohort”, although he’d almost grown used to it. 

Hermione didn’t see him like that. She saw him for him. She was the best. 

“Yeah,” Ron said. 

“You killing the Basilisk was brilliant, and it’s amazing how good you are with summoning. Do you realize how hard it is to summon another person?” 

Ron thought back to all the books he’d read on summoning. None of them mentioned trying to summon another person, only ever objects. 

“No.” 

“The Summoning Charm’s only supposed to work on objects, not people. Only a few people can summon another person, and you’re one of them.” 

“Really?” 

“It doesn’t surprise me, actually. There are theories that suggest it’s tied to a wizard’s chess abilities. Something like they’ve got to think about everything in terms of moving pieces on the board. That’s what a lot of magic is in the end, the way you think about it.” 

Charlie stood up and stretched. 

“Being so serious for so long is giving me a headache. I think I’ll go find Ginny and harass her. Are there any boys I can pick on her about?” 

Ron shrugged. 

“Challenging, but I can work with it,” Charlie said. With a grin on his face, he called, “Oh, Ginevra!” 

* * *

A week later, Hermione and Rose arrived at the Burrow. When they arrived, they found Ron, Ginny, and another boy they didn’t recognize waiting for them. 

“This must be them,” the boy said, walking over to great them. “I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you.” 

“Rose,” Rose replied, curtsying. 

“Hermione.” 

“What an honor,” Charlie said. “Ronald’s told me all about you.” 

“Has he?” Hermione said, shooting a look at Ron. 

“Only that you got the highest score on the Arithmancy O.W.L. since Dumbledore himself,” Charlie said. 

“They didn’t say that,” Hermione said, blushing. 

“Faster than any student in generations,” Rose said, beaming with pride, “without touching quill to parchment, and _without_ a wand.” 

“That was a mistake!” Hermione protested. “I’ve been so used to doing things without a wand, that–” 

“Who cares?” Ginny exclaimed. “You’re brilliant, and now everyone knows it.” 

Hermione blushed, but she was saved by Rose, who once again stole the spotlight. 

“Nice meeting you,” Rose said, waving. “Bye, Hermione!” 

Rose skipped away across the grass. 

“Really?!” Hermione called after her. “That’s it? After everything we’ve been through, that’s it? ‘Bye, Hermione!’” 

Rose stopped running, and turned back to her. 

“You’re right,” Rose said. 

She walked back to Hermione, and folded her hands in front of her. 

“Don’t worry, Dear, I’ll only be gone for a few weeks. I promise not to get into too much trouble, and I won’t mess about with other girls. Make sure to take good care of Cohort and Firecracker. Feed them three times a day, and don’t forget to water them and let them out for exercise.” 

“Isn’t she the charmer?” Charlie quipped. 

“Alice taught me all about how to talk to girls. Well, boys, but the principles are the same. How to care about them, how to tie them up, how to keep them too weak to run off, how to help them eat when they’re too weak to chew food. The usual.” 

“Thank you, Rose,” Hermione said. “I’ll keep all that in mind. Give Luna my love.” 

“I will!” 

Rose kissed Hermione on the cheek before running off again. 

“Boundaries, Rose!” Hermione called as Rose ran off. 

“Sk’lar can tell me how much he hates hugging all he likes, but I’m still going to hug him!” 

“Looks like you’ve got some competition!” Charlie stage-whispered to Ron. 

“I heard that!” Hermione called, still watching Rose run off. 

“Me too!” Rose called. 

Rose turned away from the Burrow and ran in the direction of the rook that housed Luna and her father. Fields of grass and groups of trees flew by as she raced as fast as she could, eager to see her little sister. 

Unlike the last time she’d visited, Luna was waiting for her outside. 

“Luna!” 

Rose tackled her “little sister” in a hug, sending them both crashing to the ground. 

“Salutations, Rose.” 

“Salutations, Moon.” 

Rose lept to her feet, then helped Luna to hers. 

“How’s your summer been?” Luna asked. 

“Wonderful,” Rose said as the girls went inside. “We went camping, and I visited Professor Dumbledore, and I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, and I met the rest of Cohort’s brothers, and– Tutela!” 

Tutela ran across the floor to greet them as soon as Rose opened the door. She wagged her tail in excitement as Rose picked up her homunculus. 

“There she is,” Mr. Luna’s Dad said, poking his head in from the kitchen. 

He wore an apron, which remained untouched by the storm of flour that had stricken the rest of his clothes and part of his face. 

“We were making cupcakes, but until about five minutes ago I hadn’t realized that you don’t eat.” 

“Can I help?” Rose asked. “Sk’lar never lets me cook. He always said I’d blow it up or bring it to life.” 

“We’ve already done all that,” Mr. Luna’s Dad said. “All we’ve got left is the frosting.” 

“Is that apron enchanted to repel flour?” Rose asked. 

“Yes, it is. Brilliant, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Rose replied. “I always end up covered in flour and blood whenever I cook.” 

“What have you tried cooking?” Mr. Luna’s Dad asked as the girls joined him in the kitchen. 

“Pancakes, cupcakes, cookies,” Rose replied. “The usual. Did you know flour explodes? Cos I didn’t!” 

“We’ve discovered that firsthand, haven’t we Luna?” 

“It was rather exciting,” Luna said, “and it was a lot of fun getting to put everything back together afterwards.” 

Mr. Luna’s Dad took the cupcakes out of the oven and placed them on the table. The tray floated in midair, suspended a few inches above the table. 

“You could probably use magic for this,” Rose said as she was handed a knife. 

“We could, but there’s something to be said for doing things without magic. It helps us appreciate what we’ve got, you know.” 

He placed a large bowl of frosting beside the cupcakes. It floated to each of them in turn, and all three of them spread frosting on the cupcakes. 

“Rose, Luna says you… well, you know about…” 

“I know about her dreams?” Rose asked. 

“Yes, that.” 

Rose shrugged. 

“Not the strangest power about which I’ve heard,” Rose said. “There are classes with abilities I wouldn’t have thought real, but now I don’t care.” 

“That makes me feel a lot better. Her mum was terrified to tell me about them.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they put icing on the last of the cupcakes. 

“I don’t suppose… that is, she’s got… _other_ dreams. She doesn’t think they’re about her.” 

“They’re not,” Rose said. “They’re about me. I worked it out after I found out that she’s been dreaming about other versions of her, but she’s got dreams about which Ref won’t tell me. That meant it had to be about one thing in particular, and he only exists in my world.” 

“Is that… the dragon?” Mr. Luna’s Dad asked. 

“Valignatiejir,” Rose said, her voice cracking on the name. Both she and Luna visibly flinched at the name. “He’s called Valignatiejir.” 

“Luna tells me about all her dreams, but she always said those sounded off.” 

“I _think_ I know what happened,” Rose said. “I… When Pettigrew tried to use the time turner, I broke it, and time broke around us. In that weird, broken time, I found Luna, and she wanted to help. When I tried handing her my half of the time turner, it caused my past to be blurred with hers. For anyone else, it wouldn’t have mattered, but for her, she’ll get dreams from my life. That Luna said they got better after third year, so I think handing her the time turner actually made them worse. For what it’s worth, I am so, _so_ sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Luna said. “It wasn’t your fault. She was the one trying to help.” 

Rose smiled, admiring Luna’s optimism. She’d been like that once; always happy, always positive. If it hadn’t been destroyed with her parents, Valignatiejir had taken what was left. 

“I’ve heard some of Luna’s dreams about you. They sound horrible.” 

“Has Luna told you where I’m from?” 

“No.” 

“A place called De’rok. It’s another world. I got stranded here a few years ago while traveling between planes.” 

Mr. Luna’s Dad’s eyes grew wide. 

“Amazing,” he said. “Truly remarkable. What’s it like there?” 

“On the surface, it’s not that different from here,” Rose said. “Humans look about the same here as there, but we’ve also got Elves, Halflings, Spellscales, Dwarves, Gnomes, and a bunch of other species.” 

“And they’re all treated the same?” 

“They’ve all got different cultures,” Rose said. “Halflings and Dwarves don’t mind much. Halflings are incredibly accepting, and Dwarves don’t care. Humans and Elves can be a little close-minded, but they’re not _bad_. Spellscales are one of the minorities, but you see so many people all over the place, you stop worrying about it after a while. Especially if you live in Sentrum, the capital. It’s brilliant there. I was born on Thars, the capital of the continent of Luna with the Halflings, grew up all around Rontus among Dwarves, and went to school at Arcrel, which is on Faera, the Elven continent.” 

“I think Luna’s had some dreams about those.” 

“I have,” Luna said. “I like Professor Ozerl.” 

“He’s the best, but the other Elves are… imagine being the only house-elf to attend Hogwarts. That’s what it was like to be a Human in Arcrel.” 

“What kinds of creatures are on your world?” Mr. Luna’s Dad asked. 

“I could spend all day listing them off and not get through half of them,” Rose said. 

They spent the rest of the day discussing various creatures and cultures from De’rok. Rose was thrilled to talk about her home, and Luna and her dad were happy to listen. She talked about anything from her world that popped into her head while they finished making cupcakes, and then while they ate the cupcakes. 

Rose felt as if she’d been holding in some great secret for three years, and it was the first chance she’d had to talk about it. She was upset when Luna’s dad told her it was time for Luna to go to bed. 

“We’ve got the rest of the summer to talk about it,” Luna said. “It’ll be a lot easier to understand the dreams now. Thank you, Rose.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Rose sat in Luna’s room while she waited for her friend to get ready for bed. After her dad tucked her in, he wished them both good night. 

“I am really sorry, Moon.” 

“People make mistakes. Just because you made a mistake yesterday doesn’t mean you’re going to make one today, or tomorrow, or the day after that.” 

Rose frowned and wracked her brain for Luna’s words. They sounded familiar, but she couldn’t think why. 

After a few rounds, the answer came to her. 

“Carolina said that.” 

“I like Carolina. She’s got pretty eyes.” 

“I know, right? I liked her so much until I realized Sk’lar was in love with her. Also, she’s not my type. She lectures me too much.” 

Luna giggled. 

“Good night, Rose.” 

“Good night, Moon.” 

* * *

Xenophilius was on his way downstairs when he heard his daughter laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard it. Like her eyes and many of her facial expressions, it was almost identical to Pandora’s. 

He picked up his pace and sat down in his old armchair. It had a view of the entire main room of his house. He’d sat there and watched Luna play hundreds of times. Pandora would hold his hand and smile at him, just to make sure he was still awake. 

Tears filled his eyes as he remembered the good times. He hated them because he knew they were just memories. The woman he loved could never come back. He couldn’t begin to count the days that he’d wished she were there to help him with Luna. He missed having her to listen, to talk to, to hold. Some days he felt empty, like he wasn’t a whole person anymore. Other days the pain was so constant he thought it’d never leave. 

“Are you alright?” 

Xenophilius jumped when he heard Rose’s voice. She stepped into the candlelight from the kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said, drying his eyes before his daughter’s friend could see. “I’m alright.” 

“You don’t have to hide from me,” Rose said, pulling up another armchair. “I only pretend to be happy and innocent. I know better than most how horrible the world is.” 

Xenophilius didn’t know what to make of it. Ginny Weasley and Rose were Luna’s only friends, so he’d never been sure how to act around them. Pandora would know, but he couldn’t remember how she’d been around Ginny. 

“I’m not sure I’ve heard her laugh before,” Rose said. “She always seems so happy, but she never laughs.” 

“She doesn’t,” Xenophilius said. “I don’t think Luna’s laughed since…” 

“Since her mum died.” 

Xenophilius didn’t say anything. He knew if he said something, his voice would catch, and he didn’t think a child should see a grownup crying. 

“My uncle told me I changed after my parents died. He said I was a sweet little girl when he first met me, sort of like Luna is now. Now… we’ve got to stay strong for her, but not for each other.” 

“You’re still just a child.” 

“I’m really not. No matter…” Her face changed suddenly, adorned by a false smile. Xenophilius had seen Luna do the same thing hundreds of times. 

“Thank you, Rose. Really, thank you. I’m not oblivious to how other people perceive us. I know we aren’t well liked or anything, but I don’t want Luna to know. She’s always been hopeful and happy, and I don’t want her to know how awful the real world is.” 

“I’m sorry, but I think she already knows,” Rose said. “It’s all my fault.” 

“None of this is your fault. In fact, you’re one of the best things to happen to her. I was terrified to send her to Hogwarts, and when she wrote back to me telling me her shoes were missing, I knew it was the other students.” 

Rose grinned. 

“I took care of that.” 

“She told me. Honestly, Rose, thank you for everything you’ve done for her.” 

“I don’t deserve it, though. Because of me, she’s got to live through Valignatiejir. He hurts her, he _kills_ her, he…” 

Rose closed her eyes and stopped breathing for a moment. Luna had told Xenophilius that she didn’t breathe, but that didn’t stop him from panicking momentarily when she stopped. 

“Sorry,” she said at last. “I’m trying so hard to talk about it, but it’s still so hard.” 

“It gets easier the more you do,” Xenophilius said, hoping his words sounded as reassuring as they did in his head. “It was like that when Pandora died. It was hard to talk to Luna at all. She looks so much like her mother, it… it hurt simply to look at her. I forced myself to, because you can’t just cut out your children. If I had done that when Pandora was alive, she’d have killed me, no matter what the circumstances. We do what we must for them.” 

“I never had a little brother or sister growing up,” Rose said. “My big brother and sister raised me, and I always thought they were the best. People told me that siblings never got along, but mine always did.” She laughed. “Turns out, they only did that when I was around. Alice told me about a time when she and Sk’lar met up at a town, and nearly got into a fight. Another Elf came into the tavern at which they were eating. He was from Arcrel, recognized them, and said just one thing about me.” She smiled. “They won’t tell me what happened after that.” 

“Luna’s told me about them. They sound like quite the pair.” 

“They are,” Rose said. 

She looked down for a moment, then back at him. 

“Would you please tell me about her mum?” 

Xenophilius smiled. 

“She was a lot like Luna. Both of them were brilliant. She always thought differently than everyone else. We were both sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, but she was a year older than I was. Truth be told, we didn’t talk much in school.” He sighed. “I wish we had. I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn’t exactly popular in school.” 

Rose scoffed. “Popularity’s overrated.” 

“She always kept to herself, so we never spoke. It wasn’t until a conference a few years after I graduated that we really met. I attended, not as a speaker, but she was speaking on applications of runes. I couldn’t believe my luck, and I managed to convince myself I’d never have another chance like that, so after she finished, I went up and I talked to her.” 

Xenophilius slipped back into the memory for a moment. He remembered every detail about that day. His heart pounding as he approached the podium, his hand shaking as he’d shook Pandora’s soft, warm hands. Her smile had lit up his whole world. 

“She recognized me,” Xenophilius said. “I couldn’t believe she’d known who I was, but she said she’d seen me on my own at Hogwarts. We stopped for a drink and she asked me what I was doing. I told her I was researching exotic creatures, and before I knew it, I was telling her my life’s story. The best part was that she didn’t stop me, but she listened to me. My whole life people told me my ideas were pure fantasy, but… I’m sorry, I must be boring you.” 

Rose smiled back at him and shook her head. 

“When I first met Carolina, I thought her eyes were the prettiest I’d ever seen. But she didn’t understand me. She kept trying to convince me that violence wasn’t the answer, which I guess it’s not, but they were just words from her. I just wanted someone to talk to, and she wasn’t that person. Later, I was showing Shadow some daggers I’d been working on, and said ‘They’re useful for stabbing people right in the chest.’” Rose pantomimed stabbing someone with a dagger. “I hadn’t thought about it, but then I thought ‘She’s probably gonna chew me out like Carolina.’ Then she said ‘The chest is alright, but the neck’s the best choice.’ We understood each other. After a lifetime of being an outcast, I finally found someone truly like me.” 

Xenophilius began to cry because he knew exactly what that was like. He knew the indescribable feeling of meeting someone with whom he could share anything. Pandora had listened to every theory he’d had, and didn’t criticize him for any of it. After a lifetime of searching, he’d found his true companion, and now she was gone. Every time he remembered that he’d never see her again, it was as if the world came crashing down around him. Now everything was in ruins, and he couldn’t bring himself to put it back together. 

“I’m sorry,” Rose said. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“Yes it is. It’s my fault because I can bring Pandora back.” 

Xenophilius stopped crying. In fact, it felt as if the entire world had simply stopped. It took a moment before his mind restarted again, and he stared at Rose. 

“I could bring her back anytime I wanted, but I don’t because I’m afraid of what people will do when they find out I can bring people back from the dead. It’s not fair to her.” Rose raised her voice. “She’s my little sister, and I should bring her mum back.” 

Xenophilius didn’t know what to say. His research over the past few years had focused around bringing people back from the dead. He’d spent a year attempting to recreate Ravenclaw’s Diadem in order to stimulate his brain to help him figure it out. All he wanted was for Pandora to come home, and now he was being told that his daughter’s best friend had the power to make it happen. 

“I’m going to need some time to think about that,” Xenophilius said. 

“I shouldn’t have told you about that,” Rose said. “I’m sorry.” 

“For the past four years, I’ve wanted nothing more than to see Pandora come home again.” Xenophilius paused. “Does Luna know?” 

“I don’t know,” Rose said. “I haven’t told her, but that doesn’t mean anything anymore.” 

Xenophilius forced his mind to work, trying to think of any way to convince Rose to bring Pandora back to life. 

“I could say I had a breakthrough in my research.” 

“If she comes back, you’ll have everyone begging you to bring back their loved ones,” Rose said, “even if they’ve got to use Pandora and Luna to get it.” 

“Then we’ll keep it a secret,” Xenophilius said, desperate to convince Rose. “She’ll stay here, and–” 

“Never see her friends or family again,” Rose said. “I’m sure Professor Babbling would like to see her.” 

“Bathsheda can keep a secret,” Xenophilius said. 

“What if someone sees her?” Rose asked. “What if someone invades this house?” 

“Then we’ll leave here and start a new life,” Xenophilius said. “We haven’t got much, but we can figure it out. So long as I’ve got Pandora and Luna, I know we’ll find a way. Rose, please. I’ll do anything.” 

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Xenophilius could hear the clock ticking as Rose stared into space. What was she doing? Was she thinking? Was she asking her family back home what she should do? Xenophilius wasn’t one for religion, but he was willing to pray to any deity if they’d convince Rose to side with him. 

“You’ve already got Luna’s supplies for this year,” Rose said. “Let her stay for the year. I’ll bring back Pandora at the end of it. Use that time to start saving up. Figure out a new life for yourself. You’ll have to move somewhere far away, where no one’s heard of the _Quibbler_ or the Lovegoods. I’ll handle the rest. Make sure you’re prepared to leave it all behind.” 

“I’d do anything to see Pandora again.” 

“I know,” Rose said. “I’d do anything to see Shadow again, too.” 

“Don’t tell Luna,” Xenophilius said. “In case something goes wrong.” 

Rose nodded. 

“I’m going to go outside for some fresh air,” Rose said. “Good night.” 

“Good night.” 

Xenophilius sat back in his chair and let his mind wander back to the days when he and Pandora were together. The memories weren’t horrible anymore. 

Now he couldn’t wait to see her again. 


	3. A Cup of Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people crash and places burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Both the Bulgarian and Irish Quidditch teams are owned by J.K. Rowling.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Mr. Weasley asked. 

Hermione exchanged glances with Ron and Ginny. 

“All set,” Ron said. 

“Boys?” Mr. Weasley asked the Twins. 

“We’re all set,” they said together. 

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s a bit of a hike,” Mr. Weasley replied. “We’re gonna meet the Diggorys and all take a portkey together.” 

Hermione smiled. It’d be nice to see Cedric again. It’d been a few months since she’d seen him last. Despite staying with the Weasleys for nearly a month, she hadn’t seen the Diggorys once. 

“How come Cedric hasn’t stopped by?” Hermione asked once they’d started walking. 

“I don’t know,” Ron said, shrugging. “We can just ask him when we see him.” 

Hermione nodded, then changed the subject before she talked about Cedric too much. 

“Having never been to a professional Quidditch match before, what should I expect?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “We’re gonna be in the top box, so we can see everything!” 

“You mentioned that,” Hermione said. “What about the match? Is it just like at school?” 

“Except there’s so much more,” Ron said. “Everyone moves fast, faster than you can even see sometimes. They just move the Quaffle down the field like it’s nothing.” 

“Don’t forget the opening,” Ginny said. “Ireland’s got a team of Leprechauns that comes out, and Bulgaria’s got a bunch of Veela. Us girls haven’t got anything to worry about from the Veela, but they make boys go mad.” 

“Do not!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Like Sirens?” Hermione asked. 

“Huh?” Ginny asked. 

“Sirens from _The Odyssey_ ,” Ron explained. “I read about them for Muggle Studies.” 

“Did you just say you read about something?!” George exclaimed. “You read?!” 

“Hilarious,” Ron said. “It was better the first time you made that joke. They enchanted sailors with their singing, luring them into the rocks where they’d crash and die.” 

“That sounds exactly like Veela,” Mr. Weasley said. “Word is Bulgaria tries to use them to distract the referees.” 

“That’s horrible,” Hermione said. “Why not just play fair? If they’re so good, why do they need to cheat?” 

“Now you sound like Princess,” Ginny said. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just part of the game.” 

“Cheating should never be part of a game!” 

“If you played Quidditch, you’d understand,” Ginny said. 

“I don’t agree with that.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Fred said. 

“Just enjoy,” George added. “We certainly will, won’t we, Fred?” 

“Of course, George.” 

“You two aren’t up to anything, are you?” Mr. Weasley asked. 

“Not with Hermione around,” George said. “She catches us, and we’re ruined.” 

“And don’t you forget it,” Hermione said. 

They walked for nearly an hour before arriving at their destination. When they arrived, they found Cedric and his dad waiting for them, standing beside the portkey. 

“It’s a boot,” Hermione said. 

“That boot’s the portkey,” Mr. Weasley said. “Amos, long time.” 

“Always a pleasure, Arthur,” Cedric’s father said as he and Mr. Weasley shook hands. 

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Weasley said, picking up the boot. “Just like I told you, put one hand on the portkey and hold on tight.” 

“Ever taken a portkey before?” Cedric asked her as she placed a hand on the boot. 

“No.” 

“Just hold on tight, and don’t try to stand up too fast.” 

“What?” 

“Now!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed. 

Hermione felt a sensation of being pulled through a small hole at high speed, similar to how she felt when Rose teleported her. She couldn’t see anything for a moment apart from everyone else holding the boot. 

They were all lifted from their feet, then Hermione felt as if she were falling. They landed hard, soft grass doing nothing to help their fall. 

“Not so different from Rose,” Hermione said. “A bit bumpier, maybe, but not bad.” 

She stood up, and immediately felt dizzy. 

“I’ve got you,” Cedric said, grabbing her shoulders and helping her stay steady. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said as her head cleared. “I think I’m alright.” 

Cedric let go of her, and Hermione realized she was the only one bothered by the portkey. 

“Everyone ready?” Mr. Diggory asked. 

After a few nods, their group began the short walk to their campsite. They weren’t far out, but Hermione still took the time to talk to Cedric. 

“How’s your summer been, Hermione?” Cedric asked. 

“It’s been alright,” Hermione replied. “A little quiet without Rose.” 

“Where is she?” 

“With Luna, where she’s been for the past month. How’s your summer been?” 

“Busier than I expected, but all in all alright.” 

“Why was it busy?” Hermione asked. 

“Just things,” Cedric said. “Nothing you need to worry about.” 

That was odd. Cedric wasn’t usually evasive about anything. He was always so open and willing to share. 

When they reached the campsite, the adults spoke with the campsite manager, Mr. Roberts. 

“Did he seem a little out of it?” Hermione asked Cedric. 

“He’s a muggle,” Cedric said. 

“And–” 

“Which means they’ve got to keep wiping his memory,” Cedric said. 

“Oh,” Hermione said. 

Cedric and his dad broke off from their group when they got inside the camp grounds to go to their site. They found Bill, Charlie, and Percy waiting for them at their own site. Together with Mr. Weasley, they started setting up their tent. Fred and George wandered off, saying something about a man called “Bagman”, leaving Ron, Ginny, and Hermione to go find Harry and Sirius. 

Before Hermione could join them, a familiar sound caught her attention. She looked around and spotted Tutela running to her. 

“Tutela?” 

The “dog” sat down at her feet. She wagged her tail and panted, happy as ever to see Hermione. 

“What are you doing here girl?” Hermione crouched down and petted Tutela. She leaned in close and whispered, “Did Rose send you to check up on me?” 

Tutela shook her head, then turned back and barked. 

“Told you they were here.” 

Hermione looked up and saw Rose and Luna weaving their way through the crowd. She smiled when she saw them. 

“What are you two doing here?” Hermione asked. 

“Luna’s dad wanted to come, and didn’t want to leave us alone for some reason.” 

“That’s a normal parent thing here, Rose. Come to think of it, even _your_ parents never left you alone.” 

“Yeah,” Rose said, gazing off into the distance. “Mr. Grund was fun.” 

Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes. It didn’t surprise her that silently watching someone else craft all day fit Rose’s definition of “fun”. 

“Right,” Hermione said. “Anyway, why are you two–” 

“Quidditch,” the girls said together. 

“Alright, I guess that one’s on me.” 

“Daddy likes to watch Quidditch,” Luna said. “I do to. They’re like birds in the sky. It’s exciting.” 

“Huh.” 

“What?” Rose asked. 

“Nothing, I just didn’t peg Luna for a Quidditch fan.” 

“That’s okay,” Luna said. 

“How’ve you been?” Hermione asked. 

“We’re well. Thank you for asking.” 

“We’ve been having lots of fun!” Rose exclaimed. 

Tutela barked her agreement. 

“What about you?” Luna asked. 

“It’s been… interesting. Ron’s brothers are a lot different than I was expecting.” 

“You’re sure they’re not imposters?” Rose asked. 

“I’m sure Mrs. Weasley would’ve picked up it by now if they were. She seems on top of things.” 

“Unless–” 

“Rose, she’s not an imposter either, and _you_ need to spend less time talking to Shadow.” 

“Do not!” Rose protested. 

Hermione smiled, then glanced behind her. Ron and Ginny were nowhere to be found. 

“I’ve got to get back to the others before they think I’ve gone missing,” Hermione said. “It was nice talking to you both.” 

“Same!” Rose said. “We’ll see you soon!” 

“Take care, Brain,” Luna said. 

“You too.” 

Hermione turned back and ran to find the others. She knew about where Harry’s tent was, so it didn’t take her long to find it. 

“There you are,” Ginny said. “We were starting to worry.” 

“Come on!” Ron exclaimed. “It’s almost time!” 

“It feels early,” Hermione said. 

“We left just before noon,” Ginny said. “It’s hardly early.” 

“How’ve you been Harry?” Hermione asked her quiet friend. 

“Alright,” he replied. 

“How’s life with Sirius?” 

“Better than the Dursleys.” 

As much as Hermione’d talked with Harry, she didn’t know exactly what went on with him and the Dursleys. All she knew was what Rose told her, which she was sure wasn’t everything. 

Now, Harry was more open than he’d been. They talked all the way to the pitch. He was more willing to talk about his life than he’d ever been. 

When they approached the pitch, they found vendor stands. 

“Omnioculars,” Ron read as he passed by one stand. “I completely forgot to bring something to see with.” 

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. 

“We’ll be in the top box,” Harry said. “Best seats in the pitch, so long as you can see.” He glanced at the stand. “I’ll be back in a moment.” 

“What?!” Hermione called after him. 

“Just wait right there!” 

They watched as Harry talked to the vendor. Hermione couldn’t see what he was doing, with so many people in her way. 

Harry returned from the stand a minute later carrying four pairs of Omnioculars. 

“Here,” he said, handing one pair to each of them. “To make up for the birthdays I’ve missed.” 

“What?” Hermione asked, taking her pair. She squinted to see the prices at the vendor. “Thanks, but isn’t this a bit much?” 

“I’ve told you before, I’m not really short on money,” Harry said. “Besides, you lot bought me my _Firebolt_ last Christmas. _That_ was expensive.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Ron said. 

“Who’s the last pair for?” Hermione asked. “Ginny?” 

“I didn’t even think about that,” Harry said. “No, it’s for Sally-Anne.” 

“Don’t worry,” Ginny said. “I can just take Ron’s pair if I want one.” 

“In your dreams, maybe,” Ron said. “ _Ginevra_.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Ginny growled. 

“Might I remind you that of the four of us, _I’m_ the only one allowed to use magic?” Hermione said. “Don’t make me immobilize you two.” 

After a few groans from Ginny and Ron, they caught up with the rest of the Weasleys. 

“What, nothing for us?” George asked, eyeing the pairs of Omnioculars hanging from their necks. 

“Maybe next time,” Harry said. “How’d you get here before us?” 

“That’s a secret,” Fred said. 

“We took the short way around,” Bill said. “The way _around_ the vendors.” 

Fred and George made faces at Bill the moment he turned his back. Hermione covered her mouth before she laughed, partly at them, partly at knowing there were countermeasures for them. 

They walked up several flights of stairs, taking them all the way above the pitch. Hermione looked down once, and immediately regretted it. She felt dizzy just looking over the edge of the pitch. 

When they reached the top, they found two men standing on either side of the entrance. The children took a moment to catch their breath while Mr. Weasley showed them their tickets. 

Inside the box were 18 seats, laid out in three rows of six. Two of the seats in the back were already occupied by none other than Minister Fudge, and another man that Hermione didn’t recognize. 

“That’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic,” Sirius whispered to them. 

“How do you know?” Hermione asked. 

“I was told he’d be here.” 

“Arthur, good to see you!” Minister Fudge exclaimed when he saw them. “May I introduce Mr. Oblansk of Bulgaria.” 

“Pleasure,” Mr. Weasley said, shaking hands with the other man. 

“Mr. Oblansk doesn’t speak any English,” Minister Fudge said. 

He turned to the other Minister. 

“This is Arthur Weasley,” he said slowly, motioning to Mr. Weasley. As he spoke, he pantomimed his words. “He works at the British Ministry.” 

Hermione caught Harry holding back a laugh behind her. 

_Where’s Princess when you need some moral support?_ Hermione asked, then decided to take the initiative and be the better person. 

“ _This is Mr. Arthur Weasley,_ ” Hermione said in Bulgarian. “ _He works at the British Ministry._ ” 

Everyone in the room turned to stare at Hermione in shock, except for Mr. Oblansk, who looked impressed. 

“ _You speak Bulgarian, Ms…?_ ” he asked. 

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione said, curtsying to the best of her ability. She blushed when she realized that everyone was still staring at her. 

“ _I taught myself over the summer. I’ve got a good memory, and when I found out which teams were playing today, I found a Bulgarian dictionary and a few guides in the library._ ” 

“ _That’s impressive,_ ” Mr. Oblansk said, glowering at her. “ _Don’t let on, but I speak English just fine. I’m enjoying Minister Fudge making a fool of himself._ ” 

_Well, he just earned Rose’s approval._

Hermione thought fast, then said, “ _Tell him you’ll only speak through an official. That way he won’t have a translator._ ” 

“ _Good thinking, Ms. Granger!_ ” Mr. Oblansk barked. He turned to Minister Fudge, and shook his head. “Not Ministry. Un… unapproved.” 

“Oh!” Minister Fudge exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.” 

He glared at Hermione, who did her best to look upset, then sat down in the front row between Harry and Ginny. 

“What was that about?” Ginny asked. “Did he–” 

“I’ll tell you later,” Hermione said. 

She grabbed the _condition conch_ in her pocket and sent a message to Rose. 

<Rose, I know how much you wanted to be here to talk to Minister Fudge, but I think the Bulgarian Minister is covering that for you.>

After Hermione explained what had happened, Rose replied, <I like him.>

<Where are you?>

<Look to your left.>

Hermione looked out in the crowd, hoping that Rose meant that instead of inside the top box, and looked to her left. She spotted Rose, sitting next to Luna and a man with white hair. Rose waved up at her. 

<Thanks,> Hermione replied. 

On her immediate left, Harry grimaced. 

“What’s wrong?” Hermione whispered. 

“I hear the other seats,” Harry said. 

Hermione turned just as the door was opening. 

Lucius Malfoy was the first one in, followed by a woman Hermione didn’t recognize, and of course Draco. A house-elf trailed just behind them, looking terrified to be there. 

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Ginny hissed as Minister Fudge introduced the Malfoys to Mr. Oblansk. 

“We’re all here to watch the match,” Hermione said. “Let’s not make a scene.” 

The Malfoys took the back row. Draco eyed them, and Ron and Ginny glared back at him. 

“Oi,” Hermione hissed, nudging Ginny. “Match is this way.” 

Behind her, Draco snickered, and Ron clenched his fists. 

Hermione got nervous until she caught Charlie shooting a glare at Ron. She also noticed Draco easing up when his mother did the same to him. 

“Don’t worry,” Sirius whispered from behind her. “No one’s gonna cause trouble so long as Fudge is here.” 

Hermione turned back to the pitch to see a man walking onto it. The crowd erupted into applause when he stepped out. 

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked. 

“That’s Ludo Bagman,” Harry replied. “He’s head of the Department of Games and Sports.” 

“Let’s get this match started!” he called. 

He introduced both teams, each of whom sent out a group of “mascots” to the field. 

From the Bulgarian team, a bunch of beautiful, almost enchanting women entered the field. They sang a haunting song, and Hermione saw Harry clap his hands over his ears. 

_Must be Veela,_ Hermione thought. 

Ron, who sat on the other side of Harry, wasn’t as prepared as Harry was to deal with the Veela. Charlie and Harry worked to restrain Ron, who tried to rush out of the box. Hermione saw men all over the audience in the same situation, enticed by the enchanting song of the Veela. 

Running around the field along with the Veela were what Hermione could only guess were Leprechauns, who flung gold coins into the audience. 

“Don’t get excited,” Hermione said when she saw Ginny staring at it. “It’s Leprechaun gold, which as I recall, is fake. It’ll turn into rocks or vanish after a while.” 

After each team had put on a show, the real event began. Seven players from each team flew out onto the Pitch. They flew faster than Hermione’s eyes could track, but she used her new Omnioculars to slow them down. 

The crowd erupted into applause again as the players took their places on the field. 

Just like Ron said, the action was nonstop. The players moved across the field, exchanging the Quaffle between them, never taking a break. Hermione doubted that they even stopped to think about what they would do next. Even Hermione found herself enjoying the excitement, although not nearly as much as everyone else in the top box. 

<Brain, I’m bored!>

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

<Try and enjoy the match, Rose.>

<All they’re doing is tossing a ball around! They’re–>

Rose’s voice cut out as one of the Irish Chasers hurtled into the field. 

<Never mind, just got interesting!>

Veela swarmed the fallen Chaser, apparently attempting to keep the man on the ground. He ignored them and kicked off, returning to the air. 

<Lame! There wasn’t even any blood!>

The other members of the box cheered at every goal, although not nearly as much as when Bagman announced the appearance of the Golden Snitch. 

It was as if the Seekers came to life. They broke from their rounds and rocketed towards the Snitch. Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, while farther from the Snitch (which Hermione could hardly see, even with the Omnioculars), reacted faster. He dove at the Snitch, hurtling towards the ground going faster than Hermione thought would’ve been possible with a broom. He crashed straight into the field, with the Irish Seeker pulling up at the last second. 

“That was amazing!” Harry exclaimed. “Did you see that?” 

“It was hard to miss,” Hermione said. “I’m not sure I’d call it ‘amazing’, either. He’s lucky he didn’t kill himself.” 

Even with this going on, the other players didn’t pay any notice. They didn’t stop flying until Bagman called the match. 

“Krum has caught the Snitch!” he called. “Krum has caught the Snitch! It’s all over, folks!” 

Hermione applauded along with the others. The total score brought Bulgaria just behind Ireland, meaning that Krum lost even though he caught the Snitch, something Hermione wouldn’t have thought possible. 

She glanced behind her at Mr. Oblansk. He didn’t look upset, despite his team having lost the match. Instead, he clapped politely, looking as though he enjoyed the show. 

* * *

Hermione woke up, stretched, then threw on some clothes. After using her brush to clean herself, she went outside. 

It was still dark, though stars decorated the night sky. Many people were still awake, celebrating victory or lamenting defeat. 

After the match, they’d returned to the tent and ate dinner with Harry and Sirius. Rose had stopped by to let them know she was leaving. 

It was a nice night, but Hermione still had a bad feeling. Cedric avoided the subject, Mr. Weasley knew something about which he wasn’t letting on, and even Percy had stopped himself from talking about something. Something was happening at the Ministry that they wanted to keep secret. 

She wanted to ask Rose about it, to see if she could find out anything. 

_In the morning, perhaps,_ Hermione thought. 

For just a moment, Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool, night air. No Dementors, no racism, no monsters, no earthquakes, just her and the countryside. For just that one moment, she felt as if the weight of the world were no longer on her shoulders. It wasn’t up to her to figure out what was going on; it wasn’t up to her and her friends to stop it. 

For that one, fleeting moment, Hermione was completely at peace. 

Someone screamed and Hermione lept to her feat, her head whipping around to find the source of the noise. 

A group of people marched through the camp not far from where she stood. She muttered a spell under her breath, and her world turned gray. She saw the men in masks as if it were light out, and more importantly, she could see their hostages. 

Above the group of people were four bodies, suspended like puppets above them. Hermione was certain it was the Roberts family: Mr. Roberts, his wife, and his two children. 

The people laughed as they set fire to any tents in their way, and spun the helpless people around every few seconds. 

Hermione looked out and saw people running around, screaming, trying to get away from the masked men. Smoke rose into the night sky, smothering the array of stars above her head. 

“Thars,” Hermione whispered. “It’s like Thars.” 

Rose had told Hermione about Thars before, but what she _hadn’t_ said was that she was there. She was there at the fall of Thars, but had to be taken away, because it was only a few weeks after her encounter with Valignatiejir that Thars had fallen. Thars was burned by a red dragon, and Rose was so scared she’d been frozen with fear. 

“ _What happened on Thars haunts me even now,_ ” Rose had said. “ _If I had the chance, I’d change it all. Maybe I could’ve made a difference there, but I’ll never know. Now I’ve got the feeling that Shadow looks at me with shame, and that will never go away._ ” 

“ _Sonor Satta!_ ” she cast, then screamed as loud as she could. 

She let out a high-pitched screech, getting the attention of everyone at the camp, sleeping or awake. 

Hermione ran towards the group of people, ducking behind a group of tents before they could figure out what had happened. 

_Think, Hermione. What next?_

The next part of her plan involved freeing the hostages. She was close enough to get a good look at the spell holding them in place, with and without her night vision. The “strings” were green, and for a moment she thought it might be _levicorpus_ , but she’d seen Sirius use it, and it didn’t leave a trail like that. 

_Simple solution. Disarm whichever one is doing that, then use_ arresto momentum _or_ wingardium leviosa _to get them out._

That left the question: How could she keep them distracted long enough to get the Roberts family out? 

The answer seemed obvious in hindsight. She switched off her night vision, muttered another spell under her breath, then pointed in the middle of the crowd, closing her eyes before the spell went off. 

A blinding flash of light flared from the spot at which Hermione had pointed. It lasted just a second, but would keep them blinded for long after. 

Hermione restored her night vision, disarmed the men that were holding up the Roberts family, then slowly began to levitate them to safety. She was proud of herself until she realized she forgot an important rule: Never stand still in the middle of combat when you’ve got aggro. 

She was knocked off her feet by a curse, and the family began to fall. Unfortunately, they were caught by the masked men, who jeered at Hermione. 

“What ’ve we got ’ere?” the one that attacked her asked. “A little mudblood girl trying to be a hero.” 

_Excuse me, I was succeeding before you interrupted,_ Hermione didn’t say out loud. 

Hermione was scared, but that never meant she couldn’t think. She recognized the masks the men wore, and she knew what they were doing there. 

_Death Eaters._

It also crossed her mind that the man facing her knew who she was, or had himself convinced that he knew every pureblood family in Britain. It wasn’t as if there were many of them, but she was confident that her first theory was correct. 

Hermione climbed to her feet, keeping her eyes on her opponent as the rest of the Death Eaters continued walking through the camp, no longer believing her to be a threat. She stared at him for a minute, then performed a maneuver she’d practiced all summer. Without uttering a single word, she summoned the _condition conch_ to her hand. 

<Rose–>

“ _Crucio!_ ” 

Pain surged through Hermione’s body. She screamed and fell to the ground as it coursed through her veins like the blood that sustained her. She thrashed around, unable to control herself and desperate to make the pain stop. 

Hermione had never felt anything like it. Every inch of her screamed with pain, blocking out all other thoughts. Her mind was stripped away, leaving nothing but the basic, animalistic desire to escape the pain. 

<Make it stop!>

“It’s about time someone put you mudbloods in your place,” the man spat. “Making it ’ard for the rest of us. Taking our jobs, our families, our ’appiness. Serves you right.” 

The pain subsided, and Hermione gasped for air. She tried to climb to her feet, but a foot knocked her down. 

“Please, no,” she whimpered. “No more.” 

“Want me to stop?” he asked. 

It took all her strength, but she nodded. 

“Too bad.” 

Hermione cried as he raised his wand to her. 

“Come on!” another voice hissed. “Stop wasting time.” 

The man looked down at her again, then brandished his wand. 

“ _Stupefy_.” 

A red bolt shot out of his wand and struck Hermione. It wasn’t a strong stunner, but it was enough that she didn’t want to get up. Hermione allowed her mind to slip into unconsciousness, hoping to erase the pain like a bad dream. 

* * *

A screech pierced the night and jolted Ginny awake. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Is it morning?” 

She looked around, hoping Hermione could answer her question. 

“Hermione?” 

Ginny climbed down from her bunk and found an empty bed beneath hers. 

“Hermione!” 

“Girls!” her dad said, poking his head in the door. “Put something on, and get outside. Now!” 

“But–” 

“Now!” 

Ginny pulled a robe out of her pack, threw it on, then grabbed her pack and ran outside. 

“Where’s Hermione?!” Ginny exclaimed when she got outside. 

Ron and Harry began looking around the campsite. 

“She doesn’t need to sleep as much as us,” Harry said. “She was probably the one that made that screeching sound earlier.” 

They looked through the confusion and chaos. Charlie and Bill helped them for a moment, but it was Harry that spotted her. 

“I found her.” 

“Where?!” Ron exclaimed. 

“I don’t think she’s conscious,” Harry said, looking out towards the group of people moving through the camp. “Those people are between us and her.” 

“We’ve got to help her!” Ron exclaimed, then began tearing off towards the group of people causing terror in the campsite. 

“Don’t you dare!” 

Charlie grabbed Ron with both arms before he could get any farther. 

“Hermione’s over there!” Ron shouted. 

“We don’t know that she’s still alright,” Charlie said. “You rushing in without thinking isn’t going to do her any good.” 

“But I can help!” 

“If she’s alive, I promise I’ll get her out that way, but _you_ need to get to where it’s safe. Take Ginny and Harry and get to the forest.” 

Ron stole one last glance at the hooded figures. His mind raced through possibilities. A good scattering hex would disorient them, then he could summon the hostages. If that didn’t work, he could always turn them against each other with a few stealthily placed spells. 

“ _Now!_ ” 

Ron abandoned his plans and obeyed his brother’s order, running with Harry and Ginny into the woods. 

“Fred, George, follow them,” their father ordered. “Keep them safe.” 

The boys nodded, then sprinted to catch up to their younger siblings. 

Charlie, Sirius, Bill, Percy, and their father joined the other adults in trying to subdue the apparent Death Eaters. No one fired into them, for fear of threatening the safety of the hostages. That left them at a standoff; the Death Eaters couldn’t move, and the adults couldn’t touch them. 

Charlie glanced past the hostages at the unconscious form of Hermione. While the rest of the good guys were trying to stop the Death Eaters, _he_ was trying to make sure his future sister-in-law would still be around to be his future sister-in-law. 

“I’ve got a plan,” Bill muttered. “First, we–” 

Bill was interrupted by a sudden downpour. Charlie looked up and saw the stars that were once visible were blocked by clouds. 

“Brilliant plan,” Charlie said as the fires were all extinguished. “What’s next?” 

The Roberts family vanished from above the Death Eaters. 

“How are you doing that?” Charlie asked. 

“Don’t be daft, that’s not me.” 

Without hostages to keep them safe, the crowd of Death Eaters broke apart, running back towards the woods. Without fires to provide light, they were able to use the confusion to run towards the nearby woods. The adults threw stunners at the fleeing Death Eaters, but, with their vision distorted by the rain, they didn’t take any of them down. 

When the last of them vanished, Charlie turned back and ran. 

“Please be okay,” he muttered. “Please be okay.” 

As he approached Hermione, he heard someone singing. It was a soft tune, something about the sun and roses. 

He found Rose sitting on the ground, with Hermione’s head in her lap. She stroked Hermione’s hair as she sang, and Charlie caught sight of something glittering in her other hand. 

“I knew there was a problem when they knocked her unconscious,” Rose said. “She was holding the _condition conch_ when they attacked her. I heard her screaming.” 

Charlie swore under his breath. 

“Is she alright?” 

“She’ll be shaken up for a while, but they didn’t hurt her for long.” She sighed. “I’d have been here faster, but I’m not keen on loud noises.” 

“At least she’s alive,” he said. “How’d you get here? I thought you’d gone home.” 

“I had, but I came when she called, just like always.” 

“Charlie, come on!” Bill called. “They think some more of them are still out there.” 

Charlie looked up and saw the others. Sirius ran over to Hermione when he saw her. 

“Is she alright?” Sirius asked. 

“You go,” Charlie said to Bill. “I’m gonna take Hermione back to the tent.” 

“I’ll help,” Sirius said. “I owe my freedom to these girls, after all.” 

Rose picked up Hermione. 

“Stronger than you look,” Charlie said. 

“You’ve got no idea,” Sirius muttered. “Someone should send for the children, tell them it’s safe to come back.” 

“We don’t know that,” Charlie said, as they started to walk to the tent. 

“Taltria and Alavel are with them,” Rose said. “I got confirmation from them a few rounds ago. Those people go anywhere near my friends, those two will tear them to shreds.” 

“What if they can’t?” Charlie asked. 

“Then I will,” Rose said, stepping inside their tent. 

She laid Hermione down on her bed. 

“Now what?” Sirius asked. 

“We wait,” Rose replied. 

* * *

Half an hour later, Ginny and her group arrived back at the tent. After Alavel and Taltria found them in the woods, she wasn’t surprised to find Rose sitting beside Hermione’s bed. 

Her dad and the remainder of her brothers littered the room. It was cramped with so many people there, but Ginny and Ron pushed their way through to Hermione’s bed. 

“What happened?” Ron asked. 

“We don’t know,” Sirius said. “So far as we can tell, Hermione tried to stop them.” 

“Is she alright?” Ginny asked. 

“She’s alive, but hasn’t regained consciousness yet,” Bill said. “We checked her over, and she seems alright.” 

“Rose?” Ginny asked, turning to her crimson-haired friend. 

“We’ll know what happened when she wakes up,” Rose said. 

“My Lady, if I may,” Alavel said. 

“You may not, Alavel, but thank you for doing your job.” 

Alavel nodded. 

“Please stand guard outside the tent,” Rose ordered. “Notify me if anything suspicious happens.” 

Both nimblewrights bowed and exited the tent. 

“Rose, was that you that made it rain?” Ginny asked. 

Rose nodded, but kept her gaze locked on Hermione. 

“How’d you do that thing with the Roberts?” Bill asked. 

“She did the same thing with Ron a couple years ago,” Percy said. “Just waved her wand and summoned–” 

He was interrupted by groans from Hermione’s bed. 

“Easy,” Rose said. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

“What happened?” Hermione asked as everyone crowded around her bed. 

“Thars fell, but don’t worry, we got everyone out,” Rose replied. 

“Ha ha,” Hermione replied dryly. “I did better than _you_ did.” 

“You did, and I’m proud of you for that. How do you feel?” 

“Everything hurts,” Hermione said. “Is everyone else alright?” 

“You’re such a Carolina,” Rose said. “‘Oh, I’m in horrible pain, but how is everyone else?’” 

“I don’t think–” 

“What happened?” Ginny asked. 

“Hermione almost got herself killed is what happened,” Ron muttered. 

Ginny glared at her brother. Brain was amazing. With everything happening, even Ginny had been scared, but Hermione just ran in. 

“They weren’t trying to kill me,” she said. “I got them with a _lumos maxima_ spell centered on them, then tried levitation the… levitating the campsite manager’s family out of there.” 

“You could’ve got into trouble for that,” their dad said. 

“The Trace is tied to our wands, and I don’t use a wand,” Hermione said, wincing as she sat up. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Do you know what they did to you?” Bill asked. 

Hermione closed her eyes, and Ginny eagerly awaited her response. She couldn’t wait to hear about how heroic Hermione had been. 

Hermione trembled and muttered something Ginny couldn’t hear. 

“Hermione?” Harry asked. 

“It hurts,” she whispered. 

Hermione’s trembles turned into shakes that shook the whole bed with her. 

“Make it stop. It hurts! Someone make it stop!” 

Hermione curled up in her bed and held her head in her arms. 

“What’s happening?!” Ginny exclaimed. 

Ginny looked to Bill as he and their dad pushed through to the bed. 

“Hermione!” their dad called. “Hermione, it’s alright!” 

Rose shoved them aside with one hand, then put her hands over Hermione’s. 

“ _Valla Glondoch._ ” 

Hermione kept screaming, but Rose kept her gaze fixated on Hermione. Rose refused to move, despite protests and commotion from the rest of their tent. Ginny barely caught Rose saying something else over the commotion, but after Rose said it, Hermione relaxed. 

“What did you do?” Ron asked. 

“ _Probe thoughts_ and _calm emotions_ ,” Rose said without taking her eyes off Hermione. 

“So you know what happened to her?” Harry asked. 

Rose nodded as Hermione slowly opened her eyes. 

“Hermione, you were hit by the Cruciatus Curse,” Rose said. 

Bill and their dad gasped, and Charlie, Sirius, and Ron swore, although Ginny recognized Ron’s words as Dwarven. 

“What’s the Cruciatus Curse?” Harry asked. 

“It’s the torture curse,” Ron growled. “If I ever–” 

“That’s enough, Ronald,” their dad said. “Hermione, would you us to take you home?” 

“I… I feel fine,” Hermione said. “I feel a lot better already.” 

“That’s _calm emotions_ ,” Rose said. “I can’t sustain it for more than two minutes.” 

“I’ll be okay.” 

Hermione tried to smile. Ginny didn’t know about the others, but it didn’t do anything to reassure her. 

Rose broke her gaze on Hermione, and she began to shake again. The rest of their group closed in on Hermione, but she held herself and slowly stopped. 

“I’m alright,” she said. “I just… I just need some rest.” 

Ginny looked at her family, feeling helpless not for the first time that night. Then she thought of the Death Eaters marching through the camp. 

_I should’ve been there to help her,_ she thought. _I could’ve set them on fire, and then they’d be sorry._

“We’ll let you get some rest,” their dad said. “Ginny can sleep–” 

“I’m sleeping here!” Ginny snapped. 

“She may want to be alone,” Bill whispered. 

“But–” 

“It’s alright,” Hermione said. “Ginny, you can sleep here. I’ll be fine.” 

After protests from Ron, the other boys left their tent. Ginny climbed back up to her bunk, then slid under the covers. 

“Sorry I didn’t go in and help,” Ginny said. “We–” 

“Don’t be,” Rose said. “Neither of you should’ve done anything.” 

“What was I supposed to do?” Hermione asked. “Let them hurt people?” 

Ginny rolled over and stuck her head over the side of her bed. “You taught us to fight! We can–” 

“I taught you to fight one unarmed man,” Rose said. 

“What happened to ‘I’m proud of you’?” Hermione asked. 

“I’m proud that you weren’t too afraid to do something, but you made the wrong choice,” Rose said. 

“I’m fine!” 

“You were tortured!” 

“That dragon did worse to you!” 

“ _You’re not me!_ ” 

“Someone’s got to be! When you’re not here, who’s supposed to handle it?” 

“Anyone else, but not you!” 

“You of all people shouldn’t have a problem with me running in to fix it myself! You practically invented the concept!” 

“And look what it did!” 

By then, Ginny was lost. She had no idea about what they were talking, but used the following silence to try to work it out. When had Rose run in without thinking? Rose was the best, apart from maybe Hermione. Was it when she saved Ron and Hermione from Sirius? Or the Chamber of Secrets? She hadn’t had a choice then. 

“Remember that story I told your cousins?” Rose asked. 

“What story?” Ginny asked. 

“It was about her friend Bowie,” Hermione said to Ginny. “Bowie and his brother Arytiss. They ran in without thinking, and they nearly died.” She turned back to Rose. “I was surprised you told a story with that moral, especially now.” 

“Exactly, but that’s not it. It’s… I don’t want you to turn into me, because part of who I am is what Valignatiejir did to me. And that…” Rose motioned out of their tent. “If you ever do that again, _I’ll_ kill you.” 

No one spoke after that. Ginny listened to people talking outside; no one had caught the Death Eaters. That man that hurt Hermione was still out there. 

_I’m gonna get stronger,_ Ginny thought as she drifted off to sleep. _I’m gonna get stronger, and I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna kill him._


	4. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sally-Anne and Molly bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling has dibs on the Weasleys' clock.

**That Afternoon**

Sally-Anne and her family arrived at the Burrow just after lunchtime. She was sure they’d missed the others, but she wasn’t upset about it. They would only be gone for the day, so she’d see them before long. 

“You’re sure you’ll be alright, Lady Princess?” Taltria asked. 

“I’ll be fine, Taltria,” Sally-Anne replied. “Nothing will happen at the Burrow. I’ll have all of Ron’s brothers to keep me safe, and I’m quite sure Mrs. Weasley will not allow harm to befall me before the others get back.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Taltria said. She leaned in and whispered, “Lord Scarface will be there too.” 

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem, Taltria,” Sally-Anne said. “I think time to catch my breath this summer has been just what I needed.” 

Taltria and Sally-Anne got out of the car. Sally-Anne pressed down her dress and adjusted her ribbon. After standing up straight, she walked around to the driver’s side where her father sat. 

“Have a good time,” her dad said, kissing her on the cheek. “Lady Princess.” 

“Don’t you start,” Sally-Anne said, laughing. 

“You’ve always been my little princess,” he said. “Now I’ve got a good reason to call you that out loud.” 

“Call us if there are any problems,” her mum said. “There’s a phone booth in the village, not ten minutes from here by foot.” 

Sally-Anne rattled off the directions to the booth in question, along with her parents’ number. 

“Good girl,” her mum said. “And you’ve got the money for it?” 

Sally-Anne patted her pack, which was slung around her shoulder. 

“You know, a lady wouldn’t be carrying her own bag,” her father said. “She’d have a servant do it for her, if at all.” 

“Madame Walker has told me that many times,” Sally-Anne replied. “Then Taltria will have one of her evacuation drills, and I’ll forget all about it.” She smiled politely. “See you at King’s Cross on Sunday.” 

Sally-Anne took a moment to compose herself as Taltria walked her to the door to the Burrow. 

“Take care of yourself, don’t get into trouble, all that nonsense,” Taltria said. “Same old, same old.” 

“I will, Taltria, thank you.” 

“Above all else, don’t forget to have fun,” Taltria said. “Try paying other boys some mind.” 

“I’m not sure that’s how you say that,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Alright, let’s put it another way: Flirt with as many attractive young men as you can, and break some hearts until you find the right one.” 

Sally-Anne laughed, then knocked on the door. 

“Sally-Anne, there you are,” Mrs. Weasley said when she answered the door. “And who are you?” 

“Taltria.” Taltria bowed to Mrs. Weasley. “I’m just dropping off Lady Princess.” 

“‘Lady Princess’?” 

“Taltria’s my bodyguard, appointed by Rose,” Sally-Anne explained. “I don’t know why she insists on calling me that, but there’s no stopping her, so I’ve learned to live with it.” 

Mrs. Weasley looked from one to the other, then nodded and smiled. 

“You’re welcome to stay.” 

“No, but thank you, Mother Weasley.” 

Mrs. Weasley frowned, but Taltria started back to the car before she could protest. 

“Come in, Sally-Anne. I’m afraid you’ve just missed everyone.” 

“That’s alright,” Sally-Anne said. “I was expecting that, and I’ll see them tomorrow. That way, we can all have time to talk without them rushing out the door.” 

“I can’t argue with that. It’ll just be us for supper, so I’m not making anything fancy.” 

“That’s quite alright. I’m still full from luncheon.” 

Mrs. Weasley turned to her and raised an eyebrow. 

“‘Luncheon’? So your hair, clothes, and voice come with a matching vocabulary, I see.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. 

“I guess they do. I’ve been taking elocution lessons over the summer.” 

“What for?” Mrs. Weasley asked, sitting in one of the chairs in the room. 

“It was Mum’s idea, in a way,” Sally-Anne said, sitting in a chair facing Mrs. Weasley. She sat up straight, laying one hand over the other in her lap. “I’ve had a few… outbursts lately, and I wanted help managing them. I asked my parents, who insisted that I didn’t need anger management classes. We settled on elocution lessons.” 

“Sounds like you’ve been busy this summer,” Mrs. Weasley said. She waved her wand, and a table walked in the room bearing a pot of tea and two cups. “Would you like some tea?” 

“I’d love some, thank you.” 

The table walked over to Sally-Anne, and the teapot poured tea into one of the cups. Sally-Anne took the cup, holding it gently in her hands. 

“Did you animate that yourself?” Sally-Anne asked after she’d taken a sip of tea. 

“I did,” Mrs. Weasley said, taking her own cup of tea. “I’ve got most of this house running on its own. A woman’s got to have her hobbies.” 

“Quite right,” Sally-Anne said. She took another sip of tea. “If I may say so, it must be lonely here without any of your children.” 

“I think every parent goes through that at some time or another,” Mrs. Weasley said as the table returned to the kitchen. “Of course, they never tell me anything anymore. Bill and Charlie are good boys, but even Percy’s keeping to himself now. The only thing I’ve heard from Ronald in months was this awful letter last year.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sally-Anne said, her smile fading. “I gave him the idea to write to you, but he didn’t let me see the letter until he went to send it.” 

“It’s not your fault, Dear. Boys will be boys. I should know, I’ve raised plenty of them.” She sighed. “One day, he’ll get married, and then it will be _her_ problem to make sure he behaves properly.” 

Sally-Anne frowned and placed her cup and saucer on a nearby table. 

“Don’t talk like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like he’s a disappointment. He’s not.” 

“Of course not. I didn’t say he was, just that he’s young and still has to grow.” 

“Then tell him that,” Sally-Anne said. “He’s honestly worried you don’t love him. He thinks no matter how hard he tries, you’ll always value Bill and Charlie more than him.” 

Mrs. Weasley glared at Sally-Anne. 

“Are you judging the way I raise my children?” 

“Nothing of the sort. I’m only telling you what Ron told me. I’m sorry if I offended you.” 

Mrs. Weasley held her tea as if she were going to take a sip, but glared at Sally-Anne for another minute before taking one. 

“At least he talks to _someone_ ,” she said after she’d had some more tea. 

“Mum said she never wanted to talk to her parents either, so you mustn’t blame him.” Sally-Anne picked up her tea. “Have they at least told you what happened last year?” 

“Only as much as they needed to in order to explain where Scabbers went. Arthur… Mr. Weasley said they sent Dementors to Hogwarts, but the _Daily Prophet_ said everything worked out okay. They kept the students safe long enough for the staff to apprehend Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.” 

This time, it was Sally-Anne’s turn to glare. Her hand shook, but she forgot all about the teacup in her hand. 

“What?” 

Mrs. Weasley frowned and put down her teacup. 

“Is that not what happened?” 

“Did they really use the word ‘safe’? Was that their exact word?” 

“Of course. Dementors only go after people who’ve done wrong.” 

“And I suppose you know what they do to those people?” Sally-Anne asked, her vision going blurry from tears. 

“Settle down, Dear, it’s not a big deal.” 

“ _Dürah!_ ” Sally-Anne screamed, crushing her cup in her hand. 

When she realized what she’d done, her eyes grew wide with horror. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sally-Anne said. “I didn’t mean to, I just–” 

“It’s alright,” Mrs. Weasley said. She stood up and waved her wand over the broken teacup. The pieces reassembled themselves and returned to the table next to Sally-Anne. Another wave of her wand removed the tea from Sally-Anne’s skirt and blouse. 

“I’d hate to see such a nice dress ruined.” 

“It would take more than that,” Sally-Anne said. “Rose made me this dress, so I’m sure it’s sturdier than that.” 

Mrs. Weasley took Sally-Anne’s hands in hers, and Sally-Anne reflexively drew her hands back. 

“Sorry,” Sally-Anne said. “Force of habit.” 

“An interesting habit,” Mrs. Weasley said as she looked over Sally-Anne’s hands for scratches from the broken teacup. “I see what formed it. Ginny’s mentioned that you’ve got a rune on your hand. What is that?” 

“A Shield Rune,” Sally-Anne replied, folding her hands back in her lap as Mrs. Weasley returned to her seat. “Professor Babbling’s been teaching me how to use it.” 

“You’ll have to tell me all about it, but first I’ve got a few things I’d like to know. First: What did you mean? I assume _dürah_ is some curse word you kids are using.” 

“Yes, but not like you think. It’s something we’ve all picked up from Rose. The way she uses it, it means ‘nonsense’ or ‘something ridiculous’, but Daddy says it probably means something else.” 

“Well, then, I promise not to tell anyone that you used such an unladylike term, but you’ve got to tell me what you meant about the Dementors.” 

Sally-Anne was downcast for a moment, then returned her gaze to Mrs. Weasley. She did her best to explain what transpired the previous year, although she broke into tears more than once. 

“I don’t mean to look silly, I’m sorry,” Sally-Anne said, wiping her eyes again. 

“You’re fine. I didn’t realize how bad it was. Those Dementors shouldn’t have gone after you and your friends. Didn’t you tell someone? There was never a report about this in–” 

“Mum says the _Daily Prophet_ is run by the Ministry, so they couldn’t report on anything that would harm the Ministry’s image when they’re trying to restore it.” 

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Sally-Anne regained her composure, but kept her face hidden behind her teacup. 

“Let’s change the subject,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Is there anything going on between Ronald and Hermione? They seem awfully friendly lately.” 

“They had this big fight last year, and I think they’re just happy it’s over. Ron _might_ fancy Hermione, but I’m not sure if she feels the same.” 

Mrs. Weasley watched her expectantly. 

“And the rest?” 

“I’m not sure I should be gossiping about my friends.” 

“I’m not going to tell anyone, and it’s not as if _I’m_ getting any romance these days.” 

The two of them laughed. 

“Alright. I’ve heard nothing official, but Hermione fancies Cedric Diggory.” 

“Really?” 

“I can’t tell if he’s interested or not, but she’s certainly keen on him.” 

“It will be interesting to see how that plays out. What about Ginny? Is there a special young man in her life?” 

“I’m not sure. She was obsessed with Harry for the longest time, but I think she’s over him now.” 

“That’s a pity,” Mrs. Weasley said, finishing her tea. 

“Not enough that he’s your unofficial son?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I guess not,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

Mrs. Weasley went quiet for a few moments, and Sally-Anne chose to root around in her mind. A decision that she would later come to regret. 

_… unfortunate. It was cute while it lasted. It’d be nice to have the Potter fortune, but–_

“What?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“What?” Mrs. Weasley echoed. 

“You just want his money?!” 

“I didn’t say that,” Mrs. Weasley said, furling her brow. “What are–” 

“‘It’d be nice to have his fortune!’ Harry’s a person! He’s been through Hell his entire life! If you dare think you’re going to fix Ginny up with Harry just to get his money, I will fight you tooth and nail! I don’t care who you are!” 

“Sally-Anne, calm down. I didn’t mean it. It was just a… passing… thought.” 

Sally-Anne was so angry, her vision was going red. This woman claimed she loved Harry like her own son, but in reality, she was just after his money! 

“I didn’t say that, I _thought_ it,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Are you in my head? How?” 

In some distant part of Sally-Anne’s mind, it occurred to her that she’d just outed the pendant. 

“Did you ever actually care about him?!” Sally-Anne screamed. “How far back does this lie go?! Who else is in on it?!” 

“Calm down!” Mrs. Weasley shouted in a distorted voice. The ceiling vanished behind dark clouds, and the floor turned black and eroded away, revealing a maelstrom of blood beneath them. Lightning flashed in the clouds above them and the maelstrom below them. 

Sally-Anne snapped out of her blind rage and sat back down. Her eyes grew wide as she took in every detail around her. 

“There, that’s better,” Mrs. Weasley said as the room returned to normal. “I’m sorry to scare you like that, but when you’re a parent, you’ll understand.” 

“How did you do that?” Sally-Anne asked. “What spell was that?” 

“I think it was Professor McGonagall that taught me that when Charlie was a teenager. There were times when he just wouldn’t listen.” 

Sally-Anne nodded, her eyes still wide. She hadn’t believed it until then, but Molly Weasley was not a force to be taken lightly. 

“It was just a stray thought,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m sorry, Sally-Anne, I didn’t mean to imply I just wanted Harry’s money in the family. I want _him_ in the family. He’s like another son to me, and it’d be wonderful if he were a proper part of my family. Now, why don’t _you_ tell me how you read my mind?” 

Sally-Anne took a few more breaths. 

“This,” she said, holding up her pendant. “Rose made it for me after I was attacked by the Basilisk two years ago.” 

“What?” 

“They don’t tell you _anything_. Harry and I just had… a rather public argument, and I… I was alone and the Basilisk got to me. Afterwards, while I was recovering in the Hospital Wing, Rose gave me this.” 

Sally-Anne blushed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout like that. I’m such an idiot! I’m not supposed to tell people about my pendant, and now you know about it, and–” 

“I won’t tell a soul,” Mrs. Weasley promised. 

“All summer I’ve been practicing keeping it together, and I still get worked up over Harry.” 

“Really, it’s–” 

“I _wanted_ to take anger management classes, but would Mum let me? No! ‘You’re fine, Sally-Anne. You don’t _need_ to manage your anger.’” 

“‘Worked up over Harry’?” 

Sally-Anne stopped talking and her eyes went wide. 

“I’m just going to stop talking now,” Sally-Anne said, her face now bright red. She covered her face with her hands. “Don’t look at me.” 

“I was planning on asking about you next,” Mrs. Weasley said, laughing, “but you’ve answered that for me.” 

Sally-Anne regained her composure. 

“Any young man would be lucky to have you, ‘Lady Princess’,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Don’t be surprised if I start trying to push one of _my_ boys your way.” 

“I will try to take it as a complement,” Sally-Anne said, a smile returning to her face. “I must say, I am enjoying our chat overall. It’s nice to get to talk about all this. Everyone comes to me for advice these days, and Alex and Myrtle are the only ones I can talk to about it.” 

“I haven’t heard about them.” 

“Alex Nertlyn was mine and Hermione’s prefect. She’s wonderful. She’s been like a big sister to me for the past three years. I’ve been writing to her all summer, and she even visited once. I don’t mean to sound conceited, but I think I was her favorite.” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled. 

“Myrtle is Myrtle Warren, one of the ghosts at Hogwarts.” 

“Moaning Myrtle?” 

Sally-Anne nodded. 

“She and I are good friends. I visit her now and then, and we talk about anything that comes to mind. Usually boys. She never had any friends, so she’s kept everything to herself for the past 50 years.” 

“You’ve got quite the group of friends,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“Well, I do count Rose and Luna among them. I haven’t the faintest idea what’s going on with either of them, though. Rose is… well, last year she had a lot on her mind. Not that I can tell, mind you. She did warn me that I wouldn’t be able to read her mind when she gave me the pendant, although Luna’s… different. I can hear her thoughts, but I can’t make sense of them. They just jump from one thing to the next, and they’re even out of order sometimes. It’s bizarre.” 

“Well, given her father, I’m not surprised that she’s different.” 

“She’s still my friend,” Sally-Anne said. “Even if she is odd. Professor Babbling says her mum was brilliant.” 

“I didn’t know her too well,” Mrs Weasley said. “I mean, Ginny and Luna are friends, but I never spoke much with her parents. Just small things, such as the weather, or the market. It wasn’t that easy to talk to them either.” 

She paused for a moment, and Sally-Anne resisted the urge to go digging again. 

“What about Harry? How’s he been doing?” 

“Right now, Harry’s obsessed with this girl called Cho Chang.” 

“Who?” 

“The Seeker for Ravenclaw. Her with her ‘oh, I’m so pretty and amazing at Quidditch’. She flashes him one smile and suddenly he’s enamored!” 

Sally-Anne paused and took a few deep breaths. 

“He’s happy with Sirius, though. I’m glad for it, really. His aunt and uncle are awful people.” 

They spent the rest of the day talking. Mrs. Weasley showed her around the house, and told her stories about herself. They ate a small dinner, during which Mrs. Weasley gave Sally-Anne some embarrassing stories about the Weasleys next time Sally-Anne needed to keep them in line. 

“I’m glad I’ve got an ally in the cause,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“I don’t know how I became the responsible one,” Sally-Anne said. “I thought it would be Hermione, but then I ended up trying to keep everyone safe. I guess she stops us from breaking the rules, while I keep us all in one piece.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

* * *

Sally-Anne awoke that night to a loud chime echoing through the house. It was still dark, and the entire house was silent, broken only by the clock chiming. 

“What’s happening?” she asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Is everything alright?” 

She snapped out of her trance when she heard Mrs. Weasley scream. 

“What’s wrong?!” Sally-Anne shouted, leaping out of bed. She grabbed her robe from her bed post and sprinted downstairs. 

She soon found the source of the chimes: the clock that showed the status of all the Weasley children. 

All the hands were on “mortal peril”. 

“What do we do?” Sally-Anne asked Mrs. Weasley, who stared at the clock in horror. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” Mrs. Weasley said. “They’re too far away, and–” 

“How fast can you get an owl to my house?” Sally-Anne asked, shouting to be heard over the chiming of the clock. “Taltria’s there, and if she can get here, then she can send a message to Rose. Rose could send us there, if she doesn’t just handle it herself.” She frowned. “Wait, it took nearly an hour to drive here, so an owl will take longer than that, and then she’d have to get back. Neville’s closer, right? Intelligencer’s with him. We could–” 

“Augusta won’t be awake,” Mrs. Weasley said, “and they had to travel by portkey. It wasn’t a long range one, so they had to walk until they were within range. We can’t just send someone there either.” 

Sally-Anne ran through any possibilities. The only _condition conchs_ were with Hermione and Dripty, and Hermione was at the match, and Dripty was at Hogwarts. Owls would take too long to get back to her house, and the Longbottoms wouldn’t be awake. Intelligencer didn’t sleep, but he couldn’t open the door or window for them. 

“I should’ve let Taltria stay,” Sally-Anne said. “If I had just let her stay, this wouldn’t be happening.” 

“There’s no time for regret,” Mrs. Weasley said. “There’s a village not far from here. If we can–” 

“Phone booth!” Sally-Anne exclaimed. She bolted up the stairs, grabbed her pack, and pulled out the small bag of coins her mother had given her. 

“I can make a call from the phone booth in the village,” she said. “I know the way. Mum made me memorize it in case there was a problem.” 

“Let me throw some clothes on, and I’ll come with you,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

She started up the stairs when the clock stopped chiming. 

“It stopped,” Sally-Anne said. “What’s that mean?” 

“That they changed to something less urgent,” Mrs. Weasley said as she hurried over to the clock. “Thank Merlin, they’re alright.” 

Sally-Anne caught up to her and saw the hands were now over “traveling”, with the continued exception of Mrs. Weasley, who was “home”. 

“What about Harry and Hermione?” Sally-Anne asked. “Are they alright?” 

“We’ll just have to wait until morning,” Mrs. Weasley said. “They’ll be home first thing, so we’ll find out before long. Let’s try to get some sleep.” 

Sally-Anne didn’t sleep that night. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. What happened? Did Rose know? If Hermione were in danger, Rose would’ve been there. Right? 

She knew the way to the phone booth. She could call home and see if Taltria was still there, but she was afraid to go out alone. It wasn’t that Sally-Anne was afraid of what might happen, but that she’d run into trouble and not be able to defend herself without giving herself away. 

* * *

The next morning, an owl dropped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in front of Mrs. Weasley. The headline read “ _DEATH EATERS AT WORLD CUP_ ”. 

Both women read it together, and Sally-Anne wanted to collapse when they finished. 

“No mentions of any casualties,” Mrs. Weasley said. “That’s a good sign.” 

“They didn’t mention that students were being tormented by Dementors either,” Sally-Anne said. “They also didn’t mention _how_ the Ministry workers fended off the Death Eaters. It said Death Eaters took those poor people captive, but it didn’t say how they were freed.” 

“You’re reading too much into it. Everything’s fine.” 

An hour later, Sally-Anne was pacing around the living room, glancing at both a normal clock and the grandfather clock every few seconds. 

“They’re late,” Sally-Anne said, pacing around the house. 

“I’m not sure a lady paces nervously,” Mrs. Weasley said. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you worry so much.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Sally-Anne said. 

“When was the last time you saw Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked. 

“June.” 

“So you’ve put all this work into your appearance and behavior, but this is going to be his first impression of it all?” 

“He might’ve gone home with Sirius,” Sally-Anne said, trying to reassure herself more than anything. 

Mrs. Weasley had a point; she wasn’t sure she could stand having Harry see her like she was. Her hair was a mess, she hadn’t washed up since the previous day, and she’d barely got any sleep. When she thought about it, he’d probably seen her much worse. 

“You could still have a chance to clean up,” Mrs. Weasley said. “It might help you take your mind off everything.” 

“Maybe, but they could be here any second,” Sally-Anne said. “I want to be here when they get here.” 

Mrs. Weasley glanced out the window, then turned to Sally-Anne. 

“Don’t tell Ginny I did this, otherwise she’ll be asking me to do it all the time.” 

Sally-Anne stopped pacing. 

“What?” 

Mrs. Weasley waved her wand, and Sally-Anne’s hair cleaned and fixed itself. Sally-Anne felt the magic sooth her body, as if she’d just been scrubbed from head to toe in a nice, warm shower. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” She glanced out the window again. “And just in time, too. Here they are, safe and sound. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go hug my children within an inch of their precious lives.” 

* * *

An hour later, Hermione and Sally-Anne sat in the shade of one of many trees near the Burrow. Hermione’s head rested on her knees, and she stared vacantly at a blade of grass. Screams from the night before still rang in her ears. She still saw burning tents and smoke when she closed her eyes. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home now?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Hermione nodded. She felt safer surrounded by so many people. Not to mention, Rose wasn’t that far from where she sat. Seeing how frightened Mrs. Weasley had been was bad enough; she couldn’t bear to put her parents through that. Hermione had already decided she wanted to give her parents more time to be happy. They didn’t need to know what had happened just yet. 

“Alex says ‘hi’,” Sally-Anne said. 

Hermione smiled at the mention of her former prefect. 

“I could use her right about now,” Hermione said. “She’d know what to say.” 

It was Sally-Anne’s turn to smile. “She always did.” 

Hermione allowed her mind to drift back to the days of the past year. It all seemed like a dream to her. Happy days and bad times all jumbled together. She couldn’t tell the difference; they all seemed good compared to what she’d just been through. Even her fight with Ron wasn’t that horrible anymore. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Sally-Anne said. “I could’ve helped.” 

Hermione shook her head. “They’d have just hurt you too. Besides, I didn’t exactly give anyone a chance to wake up. I just ran in on my own.” 

Sally-Anne shifted closer to her and put an arm over her friend’s shoulders. “It’ll be alright. I can talk to my parents. I know Mum will have some answer. Probably some friend she’s made that will be the perfect solution. She’s got a lot of friends like that, and if she hasn’t, Dad has.” 

Hermione nodded, although she hadn’t paid much attention to what Sally-Anne said. She just kept telling herself that she wanted to go home. 

“How are your lessons going?” she asked, taking the first idea for an alternative topic of conversation that popped into her head. 

“Not as well as I’d like,” Sally-Anne replied. “I still had a few outbursts when talking about… erm…” 

“Is it about your crush on Harry?” Hermione asked. 

Sally-Anne let out a small yelp, then blushed and recomposed herself. “Who told you? Or did you just work it out or something like Alex did?” 

“You’re not that good at hiding it,” Hermione said absently. “If he’s as oblivious as Ron, then you’ve got nothing to worry about. He’ll never pick up on it.” 

Sally-Anne let out a small laugh. Hermione couldn’t tell if her heart just wasn’t in it, or it was her hiding behind her manners. 

“Have you talked to Ron since last night?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“No, just you and Rose.” 

“How’d Rose take it?” 

“Not that well. I think she was scared.” 

“Not surprising, given what you’ve been through. I think we’re all a little scared.” She smiled at Hermione, who couldn’t bring herself to smile back. “What about Cedric? He’ll want to know too.” 

“What for?” 

“He’s your friend, remember?” Her smile took on a sly edge. “And I _know_ you fancy him.” 

Hermione shot Sally-Anne the dirtiest look she could muster. 

“That’s more like it,” Sally-Anne said. “I expect dirty looks from you, even if that one doesn’t look that different from your sulking face.” 

Hermione let out a small laugh. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sally-Anne said, giving her a quick squeeze before withdrawing her arm. “It takes me a bit longer than Alex, but I find the right thing to say eventually.” 

Hermione smiled and allowed the pain from the previous night to drift away. 

“Look at the bright side,” Sally-Anne said. “This time next week, we’ll be back at Hogwarts. Spending time with all our friends, going to class, keeping the boys out of trouble.” 

“Something’s going on at the Ministry,” Hermione said. “Cedric and Mr. Weasley avoid the subject, but there’s something going on.” 

Sally-Anne frowned. “Does Rose know?” 

“I don’t know, but she might.” 

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Sally-Anne said. “If it’s a problem, Rose will sort it out.” 

Hermione wanted to believe that. Rose had been the one that stopped the Death Eaters, but she wasn’t always there. She tried to be though. That was important, right? 

Hermione decided it didn’t matter. She pushed the thought out of her head, and focused on the upcoming school year. That’d surely provide her with the distraction she needed. Then she could put the World Cup behind her like a bad dream and move on with her life. 


	5. Insult to Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione realizes that things can always get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's impossible to kick J.K. Rowling out of Hogwarts, since she pretty much owns the place.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!” Hermione’s dad roared. 

Hermione recoiled into her mother’s arms. She expected her parents to be angry at her, but she’d never seen her father so furious. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t think–” 

“That’s the problem!” he shouted. “You didn’t think! You’ve spent so much time at that school where they’re apparently teaching you not to think for yourself that you’ve started doing it!” 

“But–” Hermione started. 

“After all your reassurances that Rose would keep you safe! Where was she when you were tortured?!” 

“It’s not her fault!” 

“Isn’t it? She’s obviously the leader of your group, and she sets the example that it’s okay to run in without thinking! I’m sure she’s already congratulated you on a job well done!” 

“No she didn’t! She told me never to do it again!” 

“That might be the first sensible thing she’s ever done!” 

“What?!” Hermione shouted. “Rose is my friend! She’d never do anything she thought would get me hurt!” 

Her dad closed his eyes and clenched his fists. After taking a few deep breathes, he continued, albeit calmer than he had been. 

“You’re not going back to that school,” he said. “In fact, you’ll be lucky to go to any of them.” 

Hermione was speechless. She’d arrived not 10 minutes ago thinking her parents were going to be scared, pass some rule about Rose not leaving her side again, and that’d be the end of it. Now she’d likely never see Hogwarts again. 

“I need some air,” her dad said. 

He stormed out the backdoor, letting it slam shut behind him. 

Hermione cried for what felt like hours. She rested her head on her mum’s shoulder while her mum stroked her hair. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Hermione sobbed. 

“I think you did,” her mum said. “You just didn’t mean to make your father so angry.” 

“What?” 

“What _were_ you thinking?” 

“I don’t know, I–” 

Her mum picked up her head and turned to face her. 

Hermione averted her gaze. She couldn’t bear to see her mum’s accusatory glare. 

“If there’s one good thing Rose has done, it was giving you that hair clip. You’re always thinking, Hermione. There’s always something on your mind, and I know you’ll remember what you were thinking.” 

Hermione thought back to the previous night. She remembered the fires, the screaming people and the Death Eaters. 

“Promise you won’t get angry?” Hermione asked. 

“I’m already angry. Your father was more vocal about it, but those are my sentiments too. I want to know what you were thinking because I know you’re not so irresponsible to think that this had a chance of working.” 

“But it almost did!” 

“No, it didn’t. What if you’d only blinded some of them? What if there were more hiding behind you?” 

“But–” 

“What if they hadn’t left you there? What if they kept on hurting you?” 

Hermione didn’t have an answer. She’d thought of that too. The thought of that curse going on was unbearable. 

“I don’t know,” she whispered. 

“So what were you thinking?” 

“I thought if I just ran away, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” 

“Why would you think that?” 

If Hermione told her about Thars, it would be the end of her time with Rose. There was no chance of her returning to Hogwarts, but there was still a chance that Rose could visit her in solitary confinement. 

“Because that’s how it felt when Sirius attacked us last year,” Hermione said. “It was horrible watching him drag my friend off, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I used to think Rose was mad for just charging in without going for help, but now I get it.” 

“Hermione, that’s not–” 

“Where were the grownups then?” Hermione asked. 

“That’s why we want you out of Hogwarts,” her mum said, raising her voice. “That’s _exactly_ why we don’t want you going back there. It’s not just that you’re in danger, it’s that you think no one’s going to help you. It always comes down to you and your friends to save people, and that’s not how it’s _supposed_ to be. At a normal school, you won’t get attacked by students, and you can trust the teachers.” 

“I’ll still get laughed at. People are still going to pull my hair, make fun–” 

“But you won’t be in any danger.” 

“I’ll be miserable! Doesn’t that matter?” 

“Of course it matters, but your safety is a bigger concern to us.” 

“This isn’t fair!” 

“No, it’s not. We’re trying to reason with you, because that’s what we want for you: to be a reasonable young woman. If you’re not going to see reason on this, then we’ll fall back on force.” 

“You can’t make me stay here!” Hermione exclaimed. “I’ll just get Rose to bring me back.” 

“No, you won’t,” her mum shot back, holding out her hand. “ _Condition conch_.” 

Hermione had never felt so angry in her life. She felt as if her parents had betrayed her. She’d never see Hogwarts again, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

“Fine,” she said. 

She took the _condition conch_ from her pocket and handed it to her mother. Hermione took one last look at it before her mother closed her fingers around it. 

That was the end of it. She’d lost. 

Her mum opened the backdoor and called her father back inside. Her parents sat down at the kitchen table opposite her. 

“We’ll see about getting a transfer into one of the schools around here after you’ve had time to cool off,” her mum said. 

“What about my friends?” Hermione said. “Can’t I at least say goodbye? Seems fair, seeing as how I’m never going to see them again.” 

“Don’t be like that,” her mum said. “This is for your own good.” 

“That’s exactly what the Ministry said about the Dementors,” Hermione snapped. 

A year ago, Hermione would’ve started crying after snapping at her parents. Now she felt as if they deserved it. They deserved it after the way they’d treated her. 

“That’s not helping, Brain.” 

The three of them turned to see Rose standing in the kitchen doorway. Her face was sullen, just like after the boggart incident. 

“Rose–” Hermione started. 

“I’m just here to fetch Ana,” Rose said. “Sorry, I couldn’t warn you.” 

“It’s fine,” Hermione’s dad said calmly. “Just take it.” 

“Hold on,” her mum said. “You don’t need to take Ana. We don’t want to cut you girls off entirely, we just think Hermione needs a break.” 

“But–” 

“Brain, don’t talk to them like that,” Rose said. “It only makes things worse.” 

“You do it!” 

“Which is how I know it makes things worse.” 

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Her parents were against her, and now Rose was against her. She’d expected Rose of all people to understand how she felt. Why wasn’t Rose standing up for her? Didn’t she know what was at stake? 

“I can never go back!” she blurted. “I’ll never see Hogwarts again!” 

“I know. Ana told me.” 

“Then why?! Why aren’t you helping me?!” 

“Because you don’t know what you did wrong,” Rose replied. “If you had waited for your team, you’d have been fine. Scarface could’ve stayed as a lookout, Cohort and Firecracker could’ve drawn aggro. Instead of waiting, you thought ‘What would Rose do?’ and ran in on your own.” 

“That _is_ what you do!” 

“I’ve got _blindsight_ out to 60 feet, Ref checking on that during combat, _foresight_ to give me warnings about incoming attacks, a 50% miss chance from _greater blink_ , and the ability to move around the battlefield with ease. If they can somehow get past all that, I’ve got an AC of 73 and tons of immunities and resistances. You’ve got none of that!” 

Hermione glared at Rose. 

“I’m good in combat because I’ve had practice,” Rose continued. “Freedom in my world means the ability to fight and stay alive. All you’ve had is the training I gave you last year, which I made up on the spot. You lot assume because I’m good at it that I’d be good at teaching it. I think Professor Snape is a shining example of why that’s wrong.” 

“So I’m just supposed to stay here and never see my friends again?!” 

“I doubt your parents are asking that. When… When Valignatiejir attacked me, Sk’lar didn’t want to let me out of his sight, and I was older than you are now.” 

“They took the _condition conch_!” Hermione shouted. 

“They are still in the room,” her mum muttered. 

“It sounds like they took it because they think you were going to get me to break you out and take you back to Hogwarts.” She turned to Hermione’s parents. “Which I won’t do without your express permission.” 

“Thank you, Rose,” her dad said. 

Hermione looked at her parents, then at Rose. She wanted to plead with Rose to take her away, but she could see from Rose’s face that wasn’t going to happen. Her one chance of freedom was gone. 

“So that’s it?” she asked. “I’m never going to see my friends again?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” her mum said. “Just because you’re not going back to Hogwarts doesn’t mean you can’t still see your friends.” 

Rose sat down beside Hermione. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Rose asked. 

Hermione scowled at Rose. What was going on? Who did Rose send in her place? She was far too calm and reasonable to be Rose. Maybe that was it! Maybe the real Rose wasn’t there, and she’d sent someone else to negotiate on their behalf. 

“So long as it doesn’t involve her going back to that place,” her dad said. 

“It does, but not for the year,” Rose said. “Just a few nights.” 

Her parents exchanged glances, then looked back at Rose. 

“How many nights?” her dad asked. 

“Hold on,” Rose said, opening her notebook. “The opening feast, Hallowe’en and the day before, the 24th of November, the 25th of December, preferably the week leading up to the 25th, although that’s optional, the 24th of February, and the 24th of June.” 

Rose closed her notebook and looked up at Hermione’s parents. 

“Those are some awfully specific dates,” her dad said. 

“Some events are happening at Hogwarts this year,” Rose said. “Nothing that will be dangerous to Hermione, or any of our friends, for that matter. Professor Dumbledore doesn’t want me going into details, so I can’t say much about it.” 

“Why do you know about it?” Hermione asked, annoyed that Rose had apparently been keeping something else from her all summer. 

“Professor Dumbledore says it’s supposed to restore good will between Hogwarts and the Ministry,” Rose said. “He knew if he didn’t tell me to stay out of it, I’d want to get involved, which, as he put it, would only harm that endeavor. So he told me about it and made me promise not to tell anyone.” 

That relaxed Hermione a little. Contrary to popular belief, Rose had some redeeming qualities, and her insistence on upholding promises was one of them. 

“Would Hermione be participating in these events?” her dad asked. 

“No, she’d be a spectator,” Rose replied. “Nothing dangerous, either, and if I detect the slightest hint of danger, I’ll get her out.” 

“Thank you, Rose, but no you won’t,” Hermione’s mum said. “This isn’t just about Hermione being in danger anymore, it’s about her seeing that she needs to respect the authority of the people in charge.” 

Rose nodded. 

“Understood.” 

Hermione nearly called Rose out right there. No way was this her friend. Rose had never been so calm and rational, especially when talking about her friends. 

“If that’s what you want, I’ll leave her in Professor Vector’s charge,” Rose said. “Which reminds me, she’ll want to continue Hermione’s lessons, if at all possible.” 

“We’ll have to discuss that later,” Hermione’s dad said. “What time on each of those days?” 

“The opening feast, the Hallowe’en feast, the evening of the night before that, one o’clock on the 24th of November, the evening of the 25th of December, 9:30 am on the 24th of February, and after sundown on the 24th of June.” 

“February’s a Friday, and June’s a Saturday,” Hermione said. “Even if–” 

“That’s not the issue,” her dad said. “It’s good to know, and we can always excuse you from school if necessary, but–” 

“Professor Vector and I would pick her up when she’s ready, and Professor Vector would not leave her side until she returns home.” 

They all sat in silence for a few minutes. Every time Hermione opened her mouth to say something, Rose would elbow her and shake her head. 

Her parents whispered to each other every so often, although Hermione couldn’t make out what they were saying. She picked up a few words, none of which were in English. After a lot of whispering, her parents turned to her and Rose. 

“We’ll start with the opening feast,” her dad said. “You may take the Hogwarts Express, but Rose, I want you to get Professor Dumbledore’s word that there won’t be an incident like last year.” 

“Consider it done,” Rose replied. 

“Hermione, we want you home by eight,” her dad continued. “We’re going to send a letter to Professor Vector to make sure that happens. If you’re not, then any chance of you ever setting eyes on Hogwarts again are gone.” 

Hermione nodded. She wanted to go back, but even a chance to see her friends again was better than nothing. The thought of never seeing Rose, Cedric, Ron, Sally-Anne, or any of her friends again was horrible. At least she’d get to see them, even if only for one night every other month. 

“We’ll discuss each night as it approaches,” her mum said, sliding her hand across the table. She opened her hand and left the _condition conch_ in the middle of the table. “If we find you gone when you’re supposed to be here, this is going away for good.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, taking the _condition conch_ back. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier.” 

“It’s fine,” her mum said. “We were all a little on edge.” 

“Sk’lar and Alice nearly tore each other apart after Valignatiejir attacked me,” Rose offered. “I’ve never seen them that angry. Carolina said they were just scared.” 

Silence fell over the room again. 

“Rose, would you mind telling us where you’re from?” Hermione’s dad asked. 

“Another world,” Rose said. “It’s called ‘De’rok’. I’m… 23 years old, and I don’t know why I’m here. It’s got something to do with Hogwarts, and that’s all I know.” 

Her mum looked at her dad, who nodded. 

“Thank you for being honest with us,” he said. “And thank you for stopping by. I think you made everything a lot better.” 

Rose smiled. 

“ _Owl’s Insight_ does that,” she said. “I’ve got +10 to Wisdom for another 40 minutes.” 

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed. “That’s why!” 

Her parents frowned at her. 

“I just… erm…” 

“She probably couldn’t figure out why I was being so… not like myself.” 

Rose stood up, and the others joined her. 

“I’m gonna get going,” she said. “Can I come visit on Hermione’s birthday?” 

“We’ll see how the opening feast goes,” Hermione’s dad said. “If it goes well, I don’t see why not.” 

“Thank you,” Rose said, then she hugged Hermione. 

“See you soon, Brain,” Rose said. 

“Can’t wait.” 

Rose curtsied to Hermione’s parents, then, after a quick hug to Ana, vanished. 

* * *

When the Hogwarts Express pulled into the platform, they stepped outside into a storm. Rain sprayed them from all sides, and they rushed to get inside a carriage. 

“I hope the Thestrals are alright,” Luna said. 

“Never mind the Thestrals,” Ginny said, wringing out her hair. “I hate rain.” She turned to Hermione. “Hey, Brain, can you teach me a spell to boil rainwater off me?” 

Hermione paused. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” 

Rose looked at each of them, then frowned. 

“Have I not put _endure elements_ on any of you?” she asked. 

“No, you made Professor Dumbledore some socks with it,” Luna said. 

“Oh yeah,” Rose said. “I hope he’s enjoying those.” 

As always, they were greeted by Professor McGonagall when they arrived at the castle. 

“Peta-Lorrum, haven’t you got something in your bag of tricks for this?” she called when they arrived. 

“For what? This lovely weather?” Rose called back. 

Professor McGonagall let out a cross between a growl and a sigh. 

“I missed you too!” Rose called as they all went past. 

After everyone made it inside, Professor McGonagall took the lead once again. They hadn’t walked 10 feet before Rose shouted “Duck!” 

Half the students hit the ground as a volley of water bombs flew overhead. 

“PEEVES!” Professor McGonagall shouted, rounding on the resident poltergeist. “Stop that this instant!” 

“I think they want to play!” Peeves’s voice echoed through the corridor. 

Professor McGonagall looked around the corridor, but couldn’t find the poltergeist. 

“Eight o’clock,” Rose said. 

Professor McGonagall spun around and turned a few more water bombs into birds that flew off down the corridor. 

“No fair!” Peeves wailed. 

He appeared down the corridor, flying off as if he were just sent to his room. 

“Thank you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“I forgot he exists,” Rose said. “We hardly ever see him.” 

“No, _you_ hardly ever see him,” Ron said. “He bothers everyone else, but he’s probably afraid of you.” 

“I wonder why,” Luna said. 

“No idea,” Rose replied. 

They filed into the Great Hall, where they found the teachers waiting for them. Harry scanned the Teachers’ Table for their new Defence Professor. Sure enough, there he was. 

The man looked old, although Harry didn’t know how old. His hair was dark gray, and one of his eyes darted around the room independently of the other. 

Harry glared at him. He didn’t care who the man was, he had replaced Professor Lupin, and that was bad enough. 

The Sorting Hat sang a new song, then the first-years were sorted. 

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Who does he think he is?” Harry asked. 

“Who?” 

“Our new professor. How could he replace Professor Lupin?” 

“Give him a chance.” Sally-Anne smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

Harry glowered at the man, then looked back at Sally-Anne. 

“You won’t be giving up on Professor Lupin. Not just by liking our new professor.” 

“Creevey, Dennis!” Professor McGonagall called. 

“I didn’t realize Colin had a little brother,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry glanced over at Colin, who was taking pictures of Dennis as the younger boy sat down in the front of the Great Hall. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” the Sorting Hat announced. 

Dennis took a seat beside his brother as the table applauded. 

“What happened to you?” Sally-Anne asked, noticing that the boy was soaking wet. 

“Fell off the boat on the way here,” he replied, a huge grin on his face. “It was brilliant! Something in the lake pushed me back on the boat! I think it was the Giant Squid!” 

Harry didn’t know why that was so exciting to anyone, but then again, he didn’t know why _he_ was so exciting to anyone. 

“Dennis, I’m Sally-Anne Perks, and this Harry Potter.” 

“No way!” he exclaimed. “ _The_ Harry Potter?” 

“The one and only,” Sally-Anne replied, flashing her small, sweet smile. 

Why was she acting so weird lately? Was it all because of her elocution lessons? Why’d she bother taking them? 

Harry and Ron figured it was some girl thing that neither of them understood. 

“Before we all begin our feast, I’ve got a few announcements,” Professor Dumbledore said. “First, as many of you have heard, Professor Lupin retired at the end of last year. Unfortunately, some personal matters arose that needed his full attention.” 

There were some murmurs from the crowd, and Harry muttered something under his breath he hoped Sally-Anne couldn’t hear. 

“But there is a silver lining. Joining us this year as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is former Auror Alastor Moody!” 

Moody stood up, nodded, then sat back down as the crowd applauded. 

“What’s wrong with his face?” Harry asked. “It’s covered in scars.” 

“You can talk, _Scarface_ ,” Ginny teased. 

Harry shot her a glare that could make a basilisk cry. 

“Sorry,” Ginny said. She leaned over to Hermione. “What’s with him?” 

“Dunno,” Hermione replied. 

“I can still hear you,” Harry said. 

He picked at his food during the feast. He didn’t feel like eating. Sirius was keeping secrets from him, Remus was gone, Hermione was leaving, and there was another Creevey to annoy him. 

“Harry, are you alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Harry glared at her, but eased up when he saw her face. It wasn’t like it was last year. Before, she’d always had this look like she was going to force her help on him, but now she looked like she had when they talked about Cho Chang. She just looked worried about him, but not like she was ready to do anything about it. 

“I… I guess there’s a lot going on right now,” Harry said. 

“Alright,” Sally-Anne said. “If you want to talk, just let me know.” 

“I will,” he said. 

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore stood up once again. 

“And now, a few final words. First, I regret to inform you all that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year.” 

Harry wanted to scream. He wanted to fling something at Dumbledore, at all of them. First they replaced Professor Lupin, the best Defence Professor he’d ever had, now they were telling him that Quidditch was cancelled for the whole year! He couldn’t fly! They’d grounded him! 

“What?” Harry hissed, forcing himself to stay contained. Fred, George, and Ron were equally shocked by the news. 

“Before you all start the Great Hogwarts Revolution, let me explain why. Hogwarts has been given the most wonderful honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament.” 

The entire Great Hall went quiet. 

“For those of you who don’t know what that is, allow me to explain,” Professor Dumbledore went on. “And for those that do, I appreciate your patience. The Triwizard Tournament began about seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts. Each school selects a champion, and the three chosen students compete in a series of three tasks. Each school had its turn to host the tournament every few years, but the death toll was too high, and the tournament stopped.” 

This sparked another series of whispers in the Great Hall. While still disappointed about Quidditch, Harry found the Triwizard Tournament interesting. Maybe it could help take his mind off things if he were chosen. When he thought about it, he was sure he didn’t want the attention that would come with being chosen. 

“Together with the Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports, the three schools have decided it’s time to try again. We’ve all worked tirelessly over the summer to ensure that no champion is placed in mortal danger.” 

“That would be a first,” Hermione muttered. 

“Students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving at the end of October and remain at Hogwarts for most of the year. There will be no classes on Hallowe’en, and after the feast, the champions will be selected by an impartial judge. The chosen few will be competing for the glory of their school and a thousand galleons prize money.” 

“That’s me,” Fred whispered. 

“Not if I’m chosen,” George said. 

Harry caught Rose pressing her lips together. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked. “So sure you’re going to be chosen?” 

Rose shook her head. 

“No.” 

“While I have no doubt that many of you would make fine Hogwarts champions, there is one more rule. Due to the issue of the champions’ safety, the Ministry of Magic, Professor Karkaroff of Durmstrang, Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons, and I have agreed that for the safety of the students, no one under seventeen will be allowed to enter.” 

Professor Dumbledore paused to allow the students to voice their distaste for this newest rule, and give them the opportunity to insult his character, clothes, face, and anything else that came to mind. 

“The tasks in the tournament will be dangerous, and were designed with sixth- and seventh-years in mind. This is for your own safety. I ask that none of you below that age waste your time trying to enter.” 

Harry was positive Professor Dumbledore glared at Rose for just a second when he said that. 

“On that note, I wish you all good night, and hope you’re all looking forward to classes in the morning.” 

“I bet a bit of aging potion will fool whatever bloke they’ve got to be their judge,” Fred said as people began to leave. 

“Nothing to it,” George agreed. 

“Like Professor Dumbledore said: Don’t waste your time,” Rose said. 

“Like you’re not thinking of entering,” Ron said. 

“I’m not,” Rose replied. “I promised Professor Dumbledore I wouldn’t.” 

“Besides, I’m sure he gave whoever this judge is a list of all our names,” Hermione said. “There’s no way he’ll let any of us enter.” 

“I can’t see why any of you _want_ to enter,” Harry said. 

“A thousand galleons,” Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. “Fame and glory! It’s been so long, it’d be like being the first champion of the Triwizard Tournament!” 

“I’m set on both, thanks,” Harry said. 

“I’d still like to give it a shot,” Ginny said. “It could be fun.” 

“I doubt I’d make it past the first one,” Neville mumbled. 

Harry didn’t want the attention, but he understood the idea of wanting to enter. It could be exciting. Maybe one of the tasks would involve flying! That might be worth it. 

“Brain, time,” Rose said. 

Hermione muttered something under her breath, then nodded. 

“Do you have to go?” Ginny asked. “Can’t Rose sneak you in?” 

“My ability to come back depends on Rose not sneaking me in,” Hermione said. “If I go missing, Hogwarts will be the first place my parents look, so she can’t just hide me here, and the professors all know I’m not supposed to be here unless my parents give their permission.” 

Ginny hugged her. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Brain,” she said. 

“I’ll miss you too, Ginny. Good luck with Arithmancy.” 

“Can you still help me if I get stuck?” she asked. 

“Of course.” 

One by one, everyone said their goodbyes to Hermione. Harry hated to see one of his friends go. It felt like a part of him would be gone. 

“We need to get going,” Hermione said after saying her goodbyes. “I haven’t got a lot of time, and I want to talk to Professor Vector before I go.” 

“Can we walk with you?” Ron asked. 

Hermione shook her head. 

“No, we’re not walking,” Hermione said. “I need to be home by eight, so I’ve only got about 40 minutes, and I haven’t seen Professor Vector all summer.” 

“We understand,” Sally-Anne said, cutting off Ron. 

Rose took Hermione’s hand and the girls vanished, leaving the others alone in the Great Hall. 

* * *

“So those were the dates you gave my parents?” Hermione asked as they appeared at Professor Vector’s flat. 

“Schools arrive the 30th,” Rose said. “Champion selection is the 31st, each of the 24ths are the tasks, and there’s a special event on the 25th of December.” 

“Some sort of Christmas celebration, I imagine,” Hermione said. “Thanks for that. I’d like to see the events, even if it sounds barbaric.” 

“Professor Dumbledore’s covering it,” Rose said. “That’s all I’m allowed to say.” 

Within a minute, Professor Vector arrived at her flat. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to stop by,” she said. She turned to the portrait that protected her flat, and it swung open. 

“Come inside, please,” she said. 

“I’ve got something to do, but I’ll be back in time,” Rose said. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. 

Rose smiled and nodded, then vanished. 

Professor Vector poured them both some tea, then offered Hermione a plate of biscuits. 

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” Hermione said. 

“Other than the obvious, how was your summer?” Professor Vector asked after she took a seat across from Hermione. 

“Other than the World Cup last week, it went great,” Hermione said. “I spent time at the Weasley’s house for a lot of the summer, but still went camping with my parents and Rose. My wandless casting’s improved, and I studied where I could.” Hermione stared at the tea, then decided she wasn’t thirsty either. “What about you?” 

“Not bad, other than learning that my star pupil won’t be attending school anymore. Professor Babbling and I have made some improvements to the usability of the dimensional prison and researched the ability of the Shield Rune to absorb kinetic energy, as you suggested last year.” 

Hermione stared at her tea. She didn’t know what to talk about for the next 35 minutes, but she felt she should be talking. 

“What spell did you use on the Death Eaters to blind them?” Professor Vector asked. 

“What? Just a _lumos maxima_ , with the focal point on them. I also tweaked it to be wider, which probably made it worse, now that I think about it.” 

Professor Vector smiled. 

“All in your head?” 

“Sure, why?” 

“Well, it should be expected, after your O.W.L. score.” 

Hermione blushed. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” 

Professor Vector took a sip of her tea, then a sly smile crept over her face. 

“As you are no longer my student, I see no problem telling you that only two people have ever matched your score in this version of the Arithmancy O.W.L. One of those people is Professor Dumbledore, and I’m not sure you’d recognize the other name.” 

“Try me.” 

“Does the name Thomas Riddle ring any bells?” 

“Voldemort took Arithmancy?” 

Professor Vector winced at the name, and Hermione shifted in her seat. 

“Sorry,” she said. 

“Yes, he did,” Professor Vector said, looking as if she’d just swallowed something bitter. “I never taught him, thankfully, but he was, sadly, I might add, one of the most brilliant wizards of his day.” 

If Professor Vector’s words hadn’t tipped her off, her facial expressions would have. She looked like she hated admitting that, although Hermione didn’t know why she was saying it if she hated it so much. 

“Why tell me that?” 

“Because it brings me comfort knowing that our new prodigy is on the side of good,” Professor Vector said. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, her face now bright red. 

“Is there any chance we can continue our lessons?” Professor Vector asked. 

“My parents haven’t made a decision about it yet,” Hermione said. “We did ask.” 

“I know, they explained the entire situation to me,” Professor Vector said. 

Hermione worried for a moment that Professor Vector was going to launch into another lecture. She’d already got one from her parents and Rose, and that was more than she needed. 

“I’m not going to lecture you, not when you’ve got to leave soon,” Professor Vector said as if she read Hermione’s mind. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said. 

“I’ll hate to see you go, Hermione,” Professor Vector said. “You’ve got a mind like none I’ve ever seen.” 

“Thank you.” 

Something occurred to her. Rose said something about counterspells, but until the World Cup, Hermione hadn’t paid it much attention. 

“Is there a way to counter a spell?” Hermione asked. “As in stop it from going off?” 

“In theory, but you’d need to know what another person was casting before they cast it,” Professor Vector said. “You manipulate magical energies when you cast a spell, so you could invert it and cancel it out entirely.” 

“Any spell?” 

“Sure.” 

“Even the… the Cruciatus Curse?” 

Professor Vector nodded, but eyed Hermione suspiciously. 

“I see why you’re asking. You’d have still lost that duel.” 

“I lost the moment I was discovered,” Hermione said. “I see that now. I’ve been working on a flashbang spell, actually, but I thought counterspelling would be a good backup.” 

“It probably would,” Professor Vector replied, her face betraying nothing. 

“I won’t do something like that again,” Hermione said. “I promise, but I don’t always want to run away. One day I want to stand and fight.” 

Professor Vector nodded, her face still stoic. 

“Alright, I’ll see what I can find out for you.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, smiling. “Not just for that, but for giving me a chance. For letting me take Arithmancy, and teaching me everything you have.” 

“The privilege has always been mine, Hermione,” Professor Vector said. “You should get going. You don’t want to be late.” 

Hermione smiled. She extended her hand to Professor Vector. 

“I think we can drop the formalities, Hermione,” she said. 

Professor Vector hugged her, which Hermione reciprocated after her mind stopped panicking about the informality. 

_Teachers don’t hug! Parents hug! And Rose! She hugs a lot! What’s happening?! So confused!_

Hermione bid farewell to her now former Arithmancy Professor, then left the flat. When she got outside, she was shocked to find someone waiting with Rose. 

“Hi, Hermione,” Cedric said. “Rose said you wanted to see me, that it was urgent?” 

“Erm… well, you see… I’m…” 

For the second time within a minute, Hermione’s brain stopped working. She wasn’t expecting to see Cedric, but as he stood in front of her, smiling, looking so handsome as always, she couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“Brain’s not staying for the year,” Rose said. “After the World Cup, they want her to stay at home.” 

Hermione blushed, and silently cursed Rose for calling her “Brain” in front of Cedric. 

“What?” Cedric asked, looking from Rose to Hermione. “Is that true?” 

“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to tell you.” 

Hermione’s heart pounded in her ears, and she began to feel sick. 

_Keep it together!_ she ordered herself. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Cedric asked. “Dad could probably send some Ministry reps to talk to your parents. Clear the whole thing up, say it was a hoax or something.” 

“They already know it wasn’t,” Hermione said. “ _I_ know it wasn’t.” 

“You were there?” Cedric asked. 

“I… I tried to stop them,” Hermione said. 

Cedric frowned, then his eyes grew wide. “Merlin’s Beard! That was you?!” 

“What?” Hermione asked. 

“Dad said someone thought they saw a girl being tortured, but no one else saw anything. He thought it was too extreme even for them. Was that you?!” 

Hermione looked down at her feet, then nodded. 

Next thing she knew, Cedric had his arms around her. 

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he said. “If I had known, I’d have stayed back to help.” 

Hermione wanted to tell him it was alright, but feeling his arms around her, she dissolved. 

“It was horrible,” she sobbed. “It hurt, and I couldn’t make it stop. I just wanted it to stop!” 

“It’s alright,” Cedric whispered. “We won’t let them hurt you again.” 

Hermione stayed in Cedric’s arms for what felt like hours. She never wanted to leave. She wished that she didn’t have to go home, that she could just stay in that moment forever. 

“I’m sorry, but Brain, we’ve got to go,” Rose said. 

Cedric pulled away and put his arms on her shoulders. 

“I’ll miss you,” he said. “It’ll be harder keeping Rebecca in her place without you.” 

Hermione laughed, smiling for what felt like the first time in years. 

“I’ll miss you too,” she said quietly. 

“I hope to see you soon,” Cedric said. 

With that, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. 

Hermione blushed as Cedric turned to Rose. 

“See you around, Rose.” 

Rose curtsied, then took Hermione’s hand in hers. 

Cedric’s smile was the last thing Hermione saw at Hogwarts that night, and those last moments she’d spent there danced in her mind as she drifted off to sleep in her own bed. 


	6. Flames of Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the flames of destiny choose three excited people, and one not so excited person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Even though the Goblet of Fire didn't choose her, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

“Where’s Brain?” Luna asked the next morning at breakfast. 

“She’s gone, Moon,” Rose said. “Remember? She left yesterday.” 

Luna’s heart sank. 

“Oh,” Luna said. “I was hoping I’d dreamed that.” 

It wouldn’t be the same without Brain there. Hermione was Luna’s emergency backup Rose, filling in for Rose in Luna’s dreams. She and Rose worked together to chase away the nightmares. 

“Which one’s Brain?” Melody asked. “Is she the one with the pretty ribbon in her hair?” 

“No, she’s the clever one with the hair clip and floofy hair,” Luna said. 

After the earthquake, Melody decided that Luna and Rose were the best, and started sitting with them. Luna didn’t know much about her, but Tutela liked Cantaloupe, so Luna figured Melody must be alright. 

“Hold on, that’s Granger,” Roger said. “Is she not coming back?” 

Rose shook her head. 

“The stuff that happened at the World Cup scared her parents, and after last year, they’re keeping her home.” 

“What happened last year?” 

Everyone sitting around Roger turned and stared at him. 

“Right, earthquake,” he said, his face turning a faint shade of red. “So Granger’s gone. Arithmancy’s already likely to be smaller, what with everyone dropping after O.W.L.s and all.” 

“What will we do without her?” Rebecca muttered. 

“Yes, Rebecca,” Rose said, tilting her head. “What will you do without her?” 

Luna looked from Rose to Rebecca. To what were they referring? Maybe it was some secret about Arithmancy that Brain had told Rose. Luna decided that must be it. 

“Never mind,” Rebecca said. 

“What classes have you got today?” Rose asked, turning back to Luna. 

Luna took out her schedule Jackie gave her not ten minutes ago. 

“History’s first, then Care for Magical Creatures,” Luna said. 

“You’ll love it,” Rose said, grinning. “First class was Hippogriffs last year!” 

“Didn’t someone almost die?” Roger asked. 

“ _Almost_ ,” Rose said. “But he was fine! Just don’t make them angry, and you’ll live.” 

Luna knew that “someone” was Butterhead, and that he was still amassing forces for his army. Perhaps the vampires were at war with the Hippogriffs. Butterhead must’ve been showing his loyalty to them by antagonizing the Hippogriffs. 

“Why don’t vampires like Hippogriffs?” Luna asked. 

“That’s a good question,” Rose said. 

“When did we start talking about vampires?” Melody asked. 

“The person that was attacked last year was Butterhead,” Luna said. 

“That’s… the Slytherin with the greasy hair?” Melody asked. “The one that looks like he’s always mad about something?” 

“That’s the one!” Rose exclaimed. 

“What’s Malfoy got to do with vampires?” Roger asked. 

“Our most recent intelligence suggests that he’s amassing an army of vampires,” Rose said. “What about you, Melody? What’ve you got this morning?” 

“Let me see,” Melody said, looking down at her schedule. “Herbology.” 

“Herbology’s the best in the morning,” Luna said. “The sun’s just coming up, and everything feels so calm.” 

Luna didn’t pay much attention during History of Magic. She’d already read through the book (at least, _one_ of the Lunas had), so she knew everything Professor Binns had to say that day. Instead, Luna spent the time drawing a picture of Tutela and Cantaloupe. She was just putting the finishing touches on it when class ended. Luna packed up her things and moved at a trot to her next class. 

“Welcome to Care for Magical Creatures,” Professor Hagrid said. “I’m Professor Hagrid, but you can just call me Hagrid. Almost everyone does.” 

Luna looked past Hagrid at the Hippogriffs. The three of them stood tall, the embodiment of majesty. Luna still couldn’t figure out what the vampires had against them. 

“Many of you might’ve heard about last year,” Hagrid said. “Malfoy wasn’t hurt, but he gave a great example of what happens when you don’t listen.” 

Hagrid continued to explain how to properly handle Hippogriffs. When he was finished, he walked up to one of them, bowed, and gently stroked its feathers. 

“See? Nothing to it,” he said, turning back to them. “Who’d like to try first?” 

Luna had her hand up at “to”. 

“Seriously, Moon?” Firecracker whispered. 

“Ms. Lovegood, I believe,” Hagrid said. “Go on and give it a shot.” 

Luna approached the Hippogriff. He towered over her, glaring at her with a predator’s eyes. 

Luna curtsied as politely as she could. She stumbled, but caught herself before she fell over. 

The Hippogriff assessed her for a moment with eyes that could pierce her soul. He bowed to her, signaling that she could rise and meet him. 

“Well done!” Hagrid said. “You can touch him, but be gentle!” 

Luna gently caressed the Hippogriff’s soft feathers. 

“Salutations,” she whispered. “What’s your name?” 

The Hippogriff glared at her, still not sure if she were trustworthy. 

“My sister can understand you, but I can’t. Her name’s Rose. Maybe you’ve met her.” 

The Hippogriff brought its head closer to her. A few of her classmates gasped, but Luna slowly reached out her hand. When the Hippogriff didn’t tear it off, Luna gently patted its beak. 

“You can trust me. I’m not with the vampires.” 

She patted it one more time, then curtsied again, keeping her balance this time. The Hippogriff bowed to her, and she returned to her friend. 

“Moon, that was amazing,” Firecracker whispered. 

“Thank you.” 

“Well done, Ms. Lovegood,” Hagrid said. “Who’d like to go next?” 

Luna watched as her classmates each gave it a shot, but three at a time. A few people took it too quickly, but a sharp warning from Hagrid got them to back off before one of the Hippogriffs tore off any limbs. 

“Good work, everyone,” Hagrid said. “Hippogriffs are proud creatures, but they’ve a right to be. Few can out-fly them at their top speed. Probably only Thestrals can fly faster than them.” 

Firecracker raised her hand. 

“Yes, Ms. Weasley?” 

“What about a _Firebolt_?” 

“You might have a chance of flying faster with a _Firebolt_ , but Hippogriffs have got more experience than even the best Seekers,” Hagrid said proudly. “When a Hippogriff takes a dive, it always comes up after it.” 

After class, Luna asked for permission to say goodbye to the Hippogriffs. 

“So long as you’re careful,” Hagrid told her. 

Luna nodded, then approached them with just as much caution as she had before. 

“See you all later,” she said as she curtsied. “I had a wonderful time.” 

The Hippogriffs responded by bowing, showing Luna the same respect she showed them. 

“They must like you,” Hagrid muttered to her as she skipped off. 

“How’d you do that?” Firecracker asked. 

“Do what?” Luna asked. “Skipping? I do that all the time. It’s easy once you get the hang of it.” 

“Not that, just now, with the Hippogriffs.” 

“Oh. Daddy says I’ve got a way with animals.” 

“I’ll say,” Firecracker said. “Next time there’s a stampede, _you’re_ gonna help. _I_ nearly got ran over.” 

“It was alright in the end,” Luna said. 

“I guess so,” Firecracker replied. “Where are you off to?” 

“Charms,” Luna said. 

“Me too! Guess us girls are sticking together!” 

While Luna liked Ginny, she was never sure which Ginny with whom she spent time. The Ginnys were almost all different, so it made it hard to keep track. The Nevilles and Hermiones were mostly the same, so Luna found it easier to remember what they were like. Except one Hermione that was a little meaner, but not that mean. After all, that Hermione only had people torn limb from limb on Tuesdays. 

* * *

Hermione woke up, but, as with the past few weeks, didn’t open her eyes. If she opened them, she’d be back in her room. If she kept them closed, she could stay at Hogwarts longer. She could pretend that if she opened her eyes, she’d be back in Gryffindor Tower. Sally-Anne would just be waking up, Lavender would be sprawled out over her bed (or the floor, as it was on a few occasions), Parvati might be getting ready for the day, and Rose would be staring at Hermione, waiting for her to wake up. 

“Brain, are you awake?” 

Hermione opened her eyes to find Rose staring at her from a few inches away from her face. 

Then there were the days when it felt as if she’d never left. 

“Good morning, Rose,” Hermione said. “Do my parents know you’re here?” 

“No.” 

Rose moved away as Hermione sat up in bed. 

“Haven’t you got class?” 

“I dunno. Maybe?” 

“Please don’t start skipping class in protest,” Hermione said, stretching. 

“I won’t,” Rose replied. “I just came by to wish you a happy birthday!” 

Hermione stopped as she was getting out of bed. Was it her birthday? It was difficult keeping track of time without classes. How long had it been since she’d last seen Hogwarts? 

“Is it?” she asked. 

“That’s what Ref and Princess told me.” Rose sat on the bed next to Hermione. “Hold still.” 

Hermione knew the drill by that point. She waited for Rose to activate her _thought bottle_ and _power surge Serendipity_ , then held still as Rose touched her hair clip. The second Rose’s finger touched it, Hermione’s head felt as if it were on fire. 

“All set,” Rose said as a red wisp flew into her mouth from the _thought bottle_. 

“You’d think I’d be used to that by now,” Hermione said, holding her head. 

“That’s the last one,” Rose said. “I can’t do anything more.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Hermione said. 

That was it. Rose couldn’t help her out anymore, so she’d just have to work at it, like a normal person. Like Cedric, Professor Vector, and Professor McGonagall all had. 

That also meant Rose had to think of something else to do for her birthday, a thought that filled Hermione with dread. 

“What are you going to do next year?” Hermione asked. 

“I don’t know yet. Maybe something with _lore of the gods_. How do you feel about worshiping Boccob?” 

As the pain eased up, Hermione scanned her brain for “Boccob”, but came up empty. 

“Who’s Boccob? No, better question: What’s involved in ‘worshiping’ him?” 

Rose shrugged. “I get +10 for ‘worshiping’ EL, and I forget he exists most of the time.” 

“Ten?!” Hermione exclaimed. “Isn’t that what _divine enlightenment_ provides?” 

“ _Lore of the Gods_ just gives a bonus to Knowledge Checks, not general Intelligence like _divine enlightenment_. Still a big deal, though.” 

Hermione reached for her hairbrush and brushed her hair for a minute to clean it. She glanced over at Rose, who sat patiently, rocking her head from side to side. During the entire time Hermione put her robe and slippers on, Rose didn’t say a word. 

“What’s with you this year?” 

Rose looked up at her, still smiling. 

“You kept the Triwizard Tournament a secret all summer. You’ve never cared that much about anything. Why now?” 

Rose’s smile faded, giving Hermione a good sign that she’d get a real answer from her. 

“I messed up last year,” Rose said. “I yelled at the teachers, broke their things. I want to make it up to them, especially Professor Dumbledore. He’s been nice to me, and the Dementors weren’t his fault.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’m not a nice person without my family there to help me.” 

There were few things that made Hermione happier than to see a real girl in Rose. It didn’t often happen, but Hermione cherished the moments when it did, because it reminded her that they weren’t that different. 

“I forget you’re human sometimes.” 

“I make mistakes too,” Rose said. “Just ask Atrien.” 

“That’s not fair. Atrien wasn’t your fault.” 

“I felt like the earthquake last year was my chance to prove that I could be just like them, but then we lost Atrien. My parents always got everyone out alive. Mum would throw up a ward while Dad and Sarista would evac everyone. Even… even at Kor’el, everyone else got out alive.” 

“Why didn’t you just bring her back?” Hermione asked. 

“Because people know about it,” Rose said. “I was lucky when the Basilisk killed Princess. Only Myrtle had seen her. If anyone else had, I wouldn’t have been able to bring her back.” 

“I still think you should tell her.” 

“‘By the way, Princess, you weren’t petrified, you were killed. Sorry for not telling you!’” 

“Probably not like _that_ , but she _died_.” 

Hermione sat back down next to Rose. It was just the two of them talking, just like old times. 

“And only you, Myrtle, and I know about it. Myrtle’s kept her mouth shut, which was the price she paid for me bringing Princess back in the first place. I’m already bringing back Luna’s mum. I can’t keep doing this or I’ll get caught.” 

Rose had already filled Hermione in on the plan regarding Luna’s family. Hermione thought it was nice of Rose, not only to be honest with Luna’s dad about it, but to do something like that for her friend. 

“I take it you still won’t consider bringing Harry’s parents back?” she asked. 

Rose shook her head. “He’s had time to adjust to the idea and move on. Moon… hasn’t.” 

“What about Sirius?” 

“Someone’s gonna notice when my friends all start moving away.” 

“We’ll just say we’re all tired of you,” Hermione said, laughing. 

“Brain, I’m serious.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear you say.” When Hermione saw the look on Rose’s face, she added, “Alright, I’m finished.” 

“Thank you. Luna’s the end of it. If someone dies while I’m here, that’s different.” 

Hermione nodded. A year ago, seeing Rose scared or upset would’ve terrified her, but she was getting used to it. What worried her now was that she didn’t know if it was a bad thing. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“Then let’s go downstairs,” Hermione said. “I think I smell breakfast.” 

* * *

Hermione and Rose arrived in the Gryffindor common room early in the morning on the 30th. It was a little odd seeing Hogwarts after so long. It still felt like home, but she remembered sadly that it wasn’t. 

“Thanks for convincing my parents to let me go unsupervised,” Hermione said. 

“It’s just the tasks that are dangerous,” Rose replied. “Not to you, though.” 

Hermione nodded. Part of her was curious about the tasks, but she knew better. If _Rose_ said it was a bad idea, it was a bad idea. 

“Is curfew still in effect?” Hermione asked. 

Rose shrugged. 

“I don’t know why I’m asking you of all people,” Hermione said. “Why would _you_ know the rules?” 

“There are rules?!” Rose gasped. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“My point exactly,” Hermione said, laughing. “When will the others–” 

“BRAIN!” 

An unknown object knocked Hermione to the ground. When she recovered enough to identify it, she found Ginny laying on top of her, squeezing the life out of her. 

“Hi, Ginny,” she wheezed. “Having a little trouble breathing. Need you to not be your mum for a minute.” 

Ginny and Hermione stood up, then Ginny started hugging her again. 

“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed. “How is it at home? Are your parents treating you good? Can you come back?” 

“Fine, _well_ , and no.” 

Ginny pouted. 

“She’s just fine,” Sally-Anne said, coming down the stairs. Like Ginny, she still wore her pajamas, but she’d taken the time to put a robe on over them. 

“How’ve you girls been?” Hermione asked after getting a hug from Sally-Anne. 

“You should’ve been there for Care!” Ginny exclaimed. “We did the Hippogriffs, and–” 

“Is everyone alright?” Hermione asked, remembering the previous year’s incident. 

“Fine,” Ginny said. “But Moon’s _amazing_ with animals. Starting with the Hippogriffs, _everything’s_ nice to her. It’s so strange, but so brilliant!” 

“I’m glad you girls are having fun,” Hermione said. “How’s Arithmancy going?” 

“Okay I guess,” Ginny said. “Maths is hard.” 

“Which is what I told you when you told me you signed up for it,” Hermione said. 

“I can do it,” Ginny huffed as Sally-Anne snickered. 

“What about you, Princess?” Hermione asked. “Everything going alright?” 

“Fine,” she replied. “It’s been wonderfully boring around here. You?” 

“Well, my parents and I decided it’d be a bad idea to send me back to school. Either I’d–” 

“Your teeth!” Ginny exclaimed. “What happened to them?!” 

“Not so loud, Ginny,” Sally-Anne said. “It’s still early.” 

“Hm?” Hermione asked, running her tongue over her teeth. “Right. My parents agreed to let me use magic to fix them, in exchange for me not trying to escape and willingly trying to go back to school. After a few failed attempts that I’m thankful no one was around to see, I shrunk my teeth down to normal size.” 

Ginny stared at her teeth for a few moments. After a little while, it began to make Hermione uncomfortable. 

“Done?” Hermione asked. 

“Sure,” Ginny said, still staring at her. 

“Anyway, we tried sending me to school, but when I tested for placement… well…” 

“You didn’t test out, did you?” Sally-Anne asked, laughing. 

“Sort of,” Hermione said, blushing. “We had to convince them I cheated so they didn’t make a big deal about the 15-year-old prodigy. We decided we’ll wait until I’m 18 until moving forward with anything.” 

“Why?” Ginny asked. 

“My parents want a quiet life right now, and I don’t want all that attention. Maybe when everything settles down, we’ll consider it again.” 

“I think you made the right choice,” Sally-Anne said. 

At breakfast, more people noticed her teeth. To her delight, Cedric was one of these people. 

_Keep it together,_ she ordered herself after he left. _It’s just Cedric._

She caught Sally-Anne smiling at her. 

“Shut up,” Hermione hissed. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Sally-Anne said, still smiling. 

“A reminder to everyone that Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving this evening,” Professor Dumbledore said when they finished eating. “I expect you will all treat our guests with the respect and kindness I know you’re all capable of. At dinner, I will introduce the judge that will be deciding who gets to enter the Triwizard Tournament. There will be no classes tomorrow, and at the end of the day, we will announce the lucky few who will serve as champions in the Triwizard Tournament. Now please, enjoy the nice day.” 

“Fred, George,” Rose called as everyone started to leave. “So you know, Professor McGonagall said to kill both of you on sight if I catch you setting up a prank for this evening.” 

They laughed, but stopped when they saw that Rose wasn’t. 

“Did… did she really say that?” George asked. 

“Yup,” Rose said. “That’s all. Enjoy your day.” 

Both boys exchanged glances before walking away. 

“She didn’t really say that, did she?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Oh, she did,” Rose said, giving Professor McGonagall a thumbs up. 

Hermione glanced at Professor McGonagall. According to Rose, the purpose of the Triwizard Tournament was to restore good relations between the Ministry and the three schools. Professor Dumbledore had gone so far as to let Rose in on it, just so she wouldn’t make things worse. The teachers utilizing their new tool to keep other problems down wasn’t a stretch. 

“I believe it,” Hermione said. 

It was a nice day at Hogwarts. Hermione didn’t feel as if she were just visiting, although she hated it when people reminded her that she was. She visited Professors McGonagall and Vector, and listened to her friends tell her about their classes. 

“How’s Professor Moody?” Hermione asked. 

“Not as good as Professor Lupin,” Harry muttered. 

“I like him!” Rose exclaimed. 

“Of course you do,” Ron said. “He’s more paranoid than Snape.” 

“ _Professor_ Snape,” Hermione corrected. “What do you mean, Harry?” 

“He talks to us like we’re… I don’t know, soldiers or something,” Harry explained. “He says he used to be an Auror, and I guess he trained a bunch of them.” 

“I don’t think he understands the difference yet,” Sally-Anne said, “but I’m sure he will. Harry’s right, though. He hasn’t quite figured out how to talk to us. I loved the way Professor Lupin always treated us as equals. I think it spoke well of his ability to teach.” 

“So he knows what he’s doing, but doesn’t know how to teach,” Hermione said. “Just like Professor Snape.” 

“Except _without_ the blatant favoritism,” Ron said. 

“At least that’s something,” Hermione said. 

* * *

They spent the rest of the day at Hogsmeade. No one knew how, but Rose convinced Professor McGonagall to let Hermione go with them. Harry enjoyed having everyone together. It helped ease his mind that something bad was about to happen. Sally-Anne assured him that it was just anxiety about the students arriving soon. 

Just before dinner, the staff began rounding up the students and bringing them outside. They all stood in line, arranged by year, with each house in its own section. The only exception was Rose, who stayed by Professor McGonagall’s side. 

“I think she missed me” was the only explanation Rose gave for this. 

The entire school stood in the setting sun for what felt like hours. They were all nervous, anxious, or excited to see the new students. After a few minutes, they saw them. 

From a distance, it looked like an ordinary horse-drawn carriage. Faintly lit by the last light of the day, Harry could see wings on every horse. As it drew closer, everyone began to see just how big the carriage was. 

Calling it a carriage didn’t do it justice; it was a _house_. A house drawn by a dozen flying horses, each the size of an elephant. They landed on the grounds, slowing to a stop as Professor Dumbledore approached the carriage. 

A boy in blue garb climbed out of the front and opened the door. Steps unfolded as the tallest woman Harry had seen in his life stepped out of the carriage. 

“Madame Maxime, how good to see you,” Professor Dumbledore said, taking her hand. 

“Likewise, Professor Dumbleydore,” she said. “Eez eet always so cold een England?” 

“Don’t worry, we’re in Scotland. It’s much colder here,” he replied. 

_Someone’s been spending too much time around Rose,_ Harry thought. 

“I’m afraid Igor isn’t here yet, but I’m sure if we wait a moment…” 

Professor Dumbledore turned to the Great Lake, but nothing happened. 

“Hmm… That usually works,” he said. “Let me try again: I’m sure if we wait a moment…” 

It wasn’t until his third try that something rose up out of the Great Lake. It started as a small cylinder, but Harry saw that it was a mast. The rest of the ship erupted out of the Great Lake, stopping just short of the shore. 

After a large plank shout out of the boat, a man walked out, followed by several students. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Professor Dumbledore said to Madame Maxime. 

He walked over to the man exiting the boat. 

“Professor Karkaroff.” 

“Professor Dumbledore, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get inside as soon as possible,” Professor Karkaroff said. “Viktor’s got a bit of a head cold.” 

“Not to worry,” Professor Dumbledore said, turning to the rest of the students. “Everyone, head to the Great Hall. Hogwarts students, take your normal seats. Everyone else, sit wherever you are most comfortable.” 

Harry watched the new students. The Beauxbatons students all wore blue silk robes, although they weren’t nearly as bulky or bland as Hogwarts robes. The Durmstrang students were all covered in fur coats, making them appear bigger than they were. 

One person in particular caught Harry’s eye. He walked alongside Professor Karkaroff, and, even bundled beneath at least two layers of coats, Harry knew who he was. 

“That’s Viktor Krum,” Ron whispered. 

“I noticed,” Harry replied. 

“That’s–” 

“Sh!” Hermione hissed. 

Professor McGonagall led them to the Great Hall. It looked normal, except for a pedestal with a box on top of it. It stood in front of the Teachers’ Table, and Taltria and Alavel stood on either side of it. Harry saw a glowing line in the floor that circumscribed the pedestal. 

“Let me be the first to welcome our guests to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” Professor Dumbledore announced. “Before we begin the feast, I would like to officially begin the Triwizard Tournament!” 

He was met with a thunderous applause that lasted a good minute. 

“Without further ado, allow me to introduce our impartial judge,” he continued. He tapped the box with his wand and it folded down around itself. Inside the box was an old, brown and black goblet. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, meet our impartial judge,” Professor Dumbledore announced. “The Goblet of Fire!” 

As its name was spoken, the goblet was filled with a bright orange flame. It rose several feet into the air for just a second, then turned a bright blue and flickered as calmly as the fireplace back in Gryffindor Tower. 

“Entry is quite simple,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Each aspiring champion will write his or her name and school on a piece of parchment, and throw it into the fire. Tomorrow night, in exactly 24 hours, the Goblet of Fire will select three champions to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.” 

Professor Dumbledore paused for a moment as people started whispering. 

“As many of you have noticed, there are two others up here with me. Hogwarts students may recognize Gryffindor Tower’s former guardians, Taltria and Alavel.” 

At their introduction, both Nimblewrights took a low bow. 

“They will be patrolling the goblet from now until tomorrow night, when the champions are chosen. They must allow you to enter your name, and have been granted permission to subdue anyone who attempts to enter without their permission. As a precaution, this includes teachers, and there are no exceptions to this. Remember, this is for your own safety. For example…” 

He took out a piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled something on the paper. He turned around and went to put the parchment in the goblet. The moment his arm got close, one Nimblewright had a sword to his throat, and the other held one to his arm. 

Several audience members gasped, but Professor Dumbledore took two steps back before burning the paper in his hand. As he did, both Nimblewrights’ swords folded up into their arms. 

“While many of you will take this as a challenge, also remember that they will call for reinforcements if they believe it to be necessary.” 

Harry caught Professor Dumbledore glance over at Rose for just a second before pointing at the glowing line around the goblet. “This is an age line. This is the first line of defence around the goblet; Alavel and Taltria are the second. As I’ve said to Hogwarts students already, if you’re under the age of 17, do not waste your time trying to enter. The tasks are dangerous, and we three schools value the safety of our students above all else.” 

* * *

The next morning, they found Fred and George eyeing the Goblet of Fire during breakfast. They stared at it as students placed their names inside. 

The procedure was simple. When someone approached the goblet, either Taltria or Alavel would ask them their name, age, and the person they were entering. Everyone got through without a problem. Every student from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entered themselves, along with most of the seventh-years. 

“It’s so simple, Professor Dumbledore never would’ve thought of it,” George said. 

“Maybe,” Rose said. “It still won’t work.” 

“What won’t?” Hermione asked, tuning into the conversation at her table. 

“Fred and George are gonna try an aging potion to fool the age line,” Ginny said. 

“And it won’t work,” Rose said. 

“Why not?” Fred asked. 

“Professor Dumbledore and I accounted for anything a student would do. You’ll never get past.” 

“Don’t Taltria and Alavel know who you are?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“They’re under orders to treat all students equally,” Rose said. 

Fred and George exchanged glances, then grinned. 

“There’s your problem,” Fred said. 

“You overthink everything,” George said. 

“You’ll think of all the maddest ideas–” 

“–but never anything simple.” 

“You’re right, I do!” Rose gasped. “You’ve got me.” 

Hermione looked from Rose to the Twins. It was all over Rose’s face that she was lying. 

“I’m gonna go with Shadow,” Hermione said. “Right?” 

“And Sk’lar, Uncle Oz, Carolina, and Bowie,” Rose said. “Shadow covered sneaky, Sk’lar covered clever, Carolina took simple, Bowie took ridiculous, and Uncle Oz got everything else. For good measure, I got everyone else from the network to weigh in on it.” 

“Wow,” Hermione said. “You’re really trying on this. I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed.” 

“Thanks, Sweety!” Rose exclaimed. 

“Fine,” George said. 

“If you won’t listen, maybe they will,” Fred said. 

Fred and George each took a vial out of their pockets, and chugged the potion inside. After that, they approached the pedestal, the others behind them. 

“Taltria, Alavel, my mates,” Fred said as he and George approached the Goblet of Fire. 

Hermione and her friends moved to the end of the table so they could hear what was going on. 

“Which one of us is Taltria and which one is Alavel?” one of them asked. 

“Erm…” 

“You can’t tell us apart, can you?” the same one asked. “Racist.” 

Hermione looked at the one, then the other. The one that had spoken spoke in a higher voice, which meant it was likely Taltria. 

“That one’s Taltria,” Harry said. “Alavel hasn’t got a sense of humor.” 

“See, he knows us,” Taltria said. “But enough fun. What’s your name?” 

“Fred Weasley.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Obviously sixteen,” Fred said, then clapped his hands over his mouth. 

“You’re not old enough,” Alavel said. “Clear away from the goblet, or we’ll have to forcibly remove you.” 

“Which I’ll enjoy, so it’s up to you,” Taltria added. 

“Let me try,” George said. “Come on. We’re just using an aging potion to try to fool–” 

Fred and George exchanged glances as Rose laughed. 

“It’s called _zone of truth_ ,” Rose said from her seat near the goblet. “Anyone who fails the Will Save must tell the truth while they stand inside it, and guess what you lot haven’t got?” 

“Rose, you can get them to let us enter, right?” Fred asked. 

“Come on, we’ll split the reward,” George said. 

“First, if you’re going to barter with me, don’t offer me part of the reward until after I’ve said ‘no’ the first time,” Rose said. “Second, I’ve got no need for money. Third, and most importantly, no.” 

“Why not?” George asked. 

“Taltria, Alavel, what was my last order?” 

Neither Taltria nor Alavel responded to her. 

“Good work,” Rose said, turning back to her friends. “They are both under orders to ignore me until after the champions have been selected. No matter what, they will follow their original instructions, and we’ve all been made aware of what the Triwizard Tournament involves. We know what will happen if we allow someone to enter who isn’t ready, and you’re not ready. Like Professor Dumbledore said, _the tasks are dangerous_.” 

“If you lot are finished, I’d like a go.” 

They turned to see Cedric, accompanied by a few Hufflepuffs. 

“Go ahead, Ced” Rose said before anyone could protest. 

Hermione closed her eyes and imagined herself strangling Rose. 

Cedric approached Taltria and Alavel as Fred and George cleared off. 

“What’s your name?” Alavel asked. 

“Cedric Diggory.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Seventeen.” 

“Who are you entering?” 

“Myself.” 

“Proceed.” 

Taltria and Alavel stood aside, allowing Cedric to place his name in the Goblet of Fire. 

“Good luck,” Hermione said as he walked past. 

“Thank you,” Cedric said. Motioning to Fred and George, he added, “Don’t let these two get you into too much trouble.” 

“I’ve got her covered,” Rose said, putting her arm around Hermione. 

After Cedric walked away, Rose turned to the Twins. 

“If you’ll stop trying, I’ll help you with another problem you’ve got,” Rose said. “Bagman.” 

The Twins exchanged glances. 

“Done.” 

Hermione was curious about what they were talking about, but her common sense once again reminded her that she didn’t want to know that badly. Instead, she directed her thoughts towards another question: How did Rose know the tasks were dangerous? 

“Professor Dumbledore told me they were when I lent him the Nimblewrights,” Rose replied when Hermione brought it up. “Before any of you ask, I haven’t a clue what the tasks are. But if Professor Dumbledore says they’re too dangerous, I tend to agree with him.” 

* * *

At last, the moment had arrived. Everyone ate their food as fast as they could, anxious to get to the champion selection. 

Everyone, that is, except Professor Dumbledore. He took his time, seemingly ignorant to the thousands of eyes fixed on him as he ate his food. 

“He’s got to be doing that on purpose,” Hermione whispered. 

“Probably too much time around her,” Ron said, nodding his head towards Rose. 

“That’s what I said,” Harry muttered. “Can’t he just finish so we can get this over with?” 

“You’re lucky you haven’t got a curfew,” Hermione said. “If he doesn’t hurry up, I might have to leave before we start.” 

“I don’t know why you’re all staring at him,” Rose said, her face hidden behind a book. “The Goblet of Fire won’t select candidates until 7 o’clock.” 

They all exchanged glances. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“Exactly 24 hours after it’s lit, the goblet makes its selection,” Rose said. “We’ve got 22 minutes left, so everyone just chill.” 

Relaxing was easier said than done. Harry looked around and saw that everyone was as anxious as he. Unlike most other students, he wasn’t hoping that he would be selected; he was _afraid_ he was going to be selected. 

Every year, something happened that just so happened to involve him. The least of them had been his second year, when he was just accused of being the Heir of Slytherin for no reason, but last year had been directly involved with him. What if his name came out of the goblet this year? 

“It’s fine,” Sally-Anne told him when he mentioned it. “If by some horrible coincidence it does, just pass. It’s like picking names out of a hat, that’s all.” 

“Why don’t they just pick names out of a hat?” Ginny asked. 

“It’s not that simple,” Hermione said. “I’ve been reading about the Goblet of Fire, and it’s believed that is uses similar magic to the Mirror of Erised.” 

“Hold on,” Ginny said. “Don’t they know?” 

“It was forged for one of the first Triwizard Tournaments,” Hermione explained. “That was hundreds of years ago, and they didn’t keep good records of it back then. Basically, it lights every time there’s to be a tournament, but just for 24 hours. _Exactly_ 24 hours, actually, and it’s got some way of scanning a person based on their name.” 

“How does it do that?” Ginny asked. 

“That’s the question,” Hermione replied. “They know it works, but no one’s allowed to study it to find out _how_ it works.” 

“Professor Dumbledore said they don’t want anyone tampering with it,” Rose said. 

“You asked, didn’t you?” Ron asked. 

“Of course I did!” Rose exclaimed. 

“I’d love to get a chance to study it,” Hermione said, gazing at the Goblet of Fire. 

Harry looked at the goblet. It stood between Alavel and Taltria, its flame flickering quietly. In a few minutes it would be the most important object in the room, but for now, it was just a goblet. To him, it would still be just a goblet, but it held the power to nominate someone based entirely on their name. It could spell certain glory or certain doom, and it couldn’t even talk. 

“Now the moment we’ve all been waiting for!” Professor Dumbledore announced. 

His announcement was met with a thunderous applause. 

“In a few moments, the Goblet of Fire will select our three champions. If I call your name, please make your way through that door into a back room. Once all three champions have been chosen, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and I will meet you there to explain what happens next. The rest of you may return to your rooms once the champions are selected.” 

He motioned to two new people sitting at the Teachers’ Table. 

“Before we begin, I’d like to introduce our guests for this evening. This is Mr. Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department of Games and Sports, and Mr. Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. They have elected to honor us with their presence tonight, and we are more than pleased to have them.” 

He walked up to the Goblet of Fire as the crowd applauded. As he reached the goblet, its flame rose two feet into the air. A small piece of parchment fluttered down into Professor Dumbledore’s waiting hand. He unfolded the parchment read it, then addressed the crowd. 

“The champion for Durmstrang is… Viktor Krum!” 

Everyone applauded, but none so loud as the Durmstrang students. Krum was congratulated in one way or another by nearly everyone he passed on his way to the back room. 

Just as Krum reached the entrance, the goblet flared up a second time, and Professor Dumbledore took the new piece of parchment. 

“The champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” 

Once again, there was a wave of noise, although the applause of Beauxbatons sounded more like singing than applause. 

One of the girls in Beauxbatons stood up. She smiled politely as she drifted across the room. 

“Who is she?” Ron asked, staring at the girl as she walked past them. 

“Fleur Delacour,” Rose replied. “Seventh-year Beauxbatons student, top of her class, quarter…” She paused as she flipped through her notebook. “‘Veela’.” 

Fleur reached the back room just as another piece of parchment flew out of the goblet and into Professor Dumbledore’s hand. 

“The champion for Hogwarts is…” 

Every Hogwarts student held his or her breath. Everyone had some hope about the champion, and Professor Dumbledore was pausing for longer than anyone would’ve liked. 

“Cedric Diggory!” 

The Hufflepuff table made more noise than any of them had ever heard it make. The normally laid back house erupted with excitement, drowning out the other three houses combined. 

Cedric himself stood up, shaking hands and accepting pats on the back as he walked the same path the other two had taken. 

Harry let his entire body sink into his seat. It was all over. The champions had been chosen, and he wasn’t one of them. 

“That was more exciting than I’d have liked,” he said. 

Sally-Anne smiled at him, but she seemed more worried about Hermione, who stared at Cedric as he disappeared into the back room. 

“It’s alright,” Sally-Anne whispered to Hermione. “He’ll be fine.” 

_Who’s she worried about?_ Harry wondered. _Cedric? Never mind, I’ll find out later. Whatever it is, it’s all over now. Like Sally-Anne says, we can go back, get some rest, then–_

_FWOOSH!_

The audience gasped as the Goblet of Fire flared up for a fourth time. The tension Harry had allowed to drain away returned. 

_No._

Professor Dumbledore stared at the goblet in disbelief when a fourth piece of parchment fluttered out of it. He glanced at the Nimblewrights, who shook their heads. 

_No._

Harry willed the piece of parchment not to hold his name. He wanted nothing to do with the tournament, and he wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. That parchment couldn’t have his name on it. It was impossible. 

No one spoke as Professor Dumbledore took the parchment. He read the name on it, then looked their way. 

_NO!_

Harry met Professor Dumbledore’s gaze, but Professor Dumbledore slowly shook his head. 

Harry frowned, then realized that he was sitting between Professor Dumbledore and someone else. Someone that was always so quiet that even Harry often forgot he was there. He slowly turned around and realized whose name it was that was on that parchment. 

Professor Dumbledore wasn’t looking at Harry; he was looking at _Neville_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might've noticed I dropped Hagrid's accent. It's still there, but I can't keep it consistent, so I'm not going to botch it up anymore. I've got more important things on which to focus, like botching Madame Maxime's accent.


	7. The Chosen Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neville gets some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I'll choose this time to say that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

“Neville Longbottom!” 

Neville felt as if he would be sick. His head spun, and for a moment, he feared he would pass out. What was going on? How was his name in the Goblet of Fire? 

“Neville Longbottom!” 

Professor Dumbledore’s voice echoed through the Great Hall, and Neville felt a thousand sets of eyes staring at him. His face burned, and he shrank in his seat. 

“Come on,” he heard someone say. “You’ve got to.” 

He looked behind him and saw Rose standing there. Her smile was kind as she beckoned him to follow her. She was his shining angel, there to escort him to his doom. 

“I’ll walk with you,” she said. “It’ll be alright. We’ll sort this out.” 

She helped him to his feet and guided him to the back room. Neville tried to walk quickly, desperate to escape the eyes burning holes in him. 

<Don’t look at them,> came Rose’s voice in his head. <They don’t understand.>

Neville was thankful for the telepathic bond. His throat was so dry he didn’t think he could speak if he wanted to, and hearing Rose’s voice in his head was soothing. It felt as if she were all around him, ready to defend him from the terror of the other students. 

<How do you know?>

<Because not one of them understands that this isn’t a matter of fame and glory,> Rose replied. <That’s what they think this is, and they’re angry at you for cheating the system.>

<But I didn’t,> Neville said as they approached the room. <Rose, you must believe me!>

<I believe you,> Rose replied. <You’re not like Cohort.>

Neville glanced over at the teachers and immediately regretted it. The only thing worse than every student glaring at him was Professor Snape glaring at him. For a moment, he was back in class, approaching the Potions Master with a miserable excuse for an assignment. 

<Don’t look at him,> Rose ordered him. <Stay focused on me. I’ll get you through this, Toad. I promise.>

Neville concentrated on Rose’s voice, forcing himself not to panic. 

<If there’s any time I shouldn’t cry, it’s now,> he told himself. 

Rose would inform him later that he’d pathed that to her, and he was thankful that she hadn’t said anything at the time. 

They entered the backroom and found Fleur, Krum, and Cedric. Neville quickly assessed each of them. Fleur sat up straight in one of the chairs, holding perfectly still as if she were waiting for someone to paint her; Krum stood on one side of the fireplace, either brooding or staring off into space; Cedric leaned against the wall on the other side of the fireplace, his eyes drifting between the other two. 

All three of them turned to Rose and Neville when they entered. 

“Rose?” Cedric asked. 

“Do zey want us to come back?” Fleur asked. 

“Not exactly,” Rose replied. 

“Then what–” Cedric started to ask, but he was interrupted by a mass of adults entering the room. 

Professors Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, (to Neville’s horror) Snape, and Moody all entered the room. They were followed by Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, Mr. Bagman, and Mr. Crouch. There was a sudden rush of noise as the door was opened and closed. 

“Isn’t this most fascinating?” Bagman asked. “Lady and Gentlemen, may I–” 

“Not now, Bagman!” McGonagall snapped. 

“Ms. Delacour, Mr. Diggory, Mr. Krum,” Professor Dumbledore said. “This is Neville Longbottom. The _Fourth_ Champion.” 

If the other three champions were surprised, Fleur was the only one that really showed it. Cedric frowned and stood up straight, evidently taking the situation seriously, and Krum scowled, just as terse as ever. 

“’ow can zhat be?” Fleur asked. “’E is too young to compete!” She turned to Rose. “And vy is she ’ere?” 

“Sa–” Rose began, but Professor Dumbledore cut her off. 

“This is Rose Peta-Lorrum,” he informed them as Rose curtsied. “She has my permission to be here.” He turned to Karkaroff and Maxime. “Anyone that would like to contest that may take it up with me.” 

“Oh, I’d to contest you on _something_ , Dumbledore,” Karkaroff said. “I wasn’t aware that the host school got two champions. Did I miss that in the rules?” 

“Zhey don’t!” Madame Maxime exclaimed. 

“How’d he get past the age line?” Karkaroff snapped. “Or those two knights that you said would keep this sort of thing from happening. You _insisted_ they’d be better.” 

“I had Taltria and Alavel memorize the faces of all students present at Hogwarts,” Rose said, drawing attention from everyone in the room. “Asking them their names was just a precaution. _Then_ we put the entire thing inside a _zone of truth_ , and the second question everyone was asked was ‘How old are you?’” 

“Every professor in this room tested that, Karkaroff,” Professor McGonagall said. “Even _you_ admitted you couldn’t lie inside that thing.” 

“So someone paid them off!” Karkaroff shot back. “It’s easily done!” 

Rose pressed her lips together, evidently trying not to laugh. 

Neville, however, found _nothing_ about the current situation amusing. 

“Those knights aren’t human,” Professor Dumbledore said. “There is _nothing_ beneath that armor. I’ll admit, I might have made a mistake on the age line, but that’s why I asked Rose here if I could borrow Taltria and Alavel. They remain loyal only to her, which brings me to my next question.” He turned to Rose. “Rose, did you tell them to allow someone to place Neville’s name in the Goblet of Fire?” 

“Why would–” 

“Just answer the question, Peta-Lorrum!” Professor McGonagall hissed. 

“No.” 

“Could someone have lied and placed Mr. Longbottom’s name inside the Goblet?” 

“Third question everyone was asked: ‘Who are you entering?’” 

Professor Dumbledore turned to the other two headmasters. 

“I believe that rules out the easy approach,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“Why are you deferring to her?!” Karkaroff demanded. “She can’t be more than 10 years old!” 

“Well–” Rose began. 

“Not the time,” Professor McGonagall hissed. 

“As I said, they are loyal only to her, because she created them,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“What eef someone simply pretended to be ’er?” Madame Maxime asked. 

“I doubt _that’s_ possible,” Professor Snape muttered. 

“Rose?” Professor Dumbledore asked, once again turning to Neville’s only friend in the room. 

“Taltria and Alavel were under orders to ignore all spoken commands from me,” Rose said. “They were instructed to treat me as any other student for the time that the flame was lit. If they needed to communicate with me at all, they only did so over telecomm.” 

“That means telepathic communication,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “We can discuss this with Taltria and Alavel later. Right now–” 

“Then we have nothing else to talk about!” Karkaroff shouted. “I demand that the Goblet of Fire be relit and I resubmit my students’ names! If Hogwarts has two champions, then it’s only fair that Durmstrang receive two as well!” 

“That’s not how the Goblet of Fire works,” Crouch said. “Once the flame’s gone out, it won’t relight until the next tournament.” 

“Then I’m leaving!” 

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but Professors Snape and McGonagall shot her a look, and she closed it. 

“No you’re not,” Professor Moody growled, motioning to Krum. “You know as well as the rest of us that your champion’s got to compete, which means _you’ve_ got to stay here with him.” 

“Zhat still means zhat Hogwarts ’as got two shampions,” Madame Maxime said. “Two schances to win. Eet is ’ardly fair to us!” 

“Professors?” 

Neville heard his own voice come from his mouth, but it was as if his lips had moved on their own. He vaguely remembered willing them to move, but it was as if he were dreaming. 

All eyes turned to him, and despite feeling small, Neville stood up straight, empowered by the small smile Rose directed at him. 

“Yes, Neville?” Professor Sprout asked. 

“Can’t I just not compete?” he asked. “I don’t even want to be here. I’d rather just withdraw from the tournament. That way, everyone can be happy.” 

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, and Neville’s spirits sank. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Mr. Crouch? Mr. Bagman? Would one of you please explain?” 

“The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract, you see,” Bagman said. “The boy has no choice. He _must_ compete.” 

“More than a little convenient,” Professor Moody growled. 

“Yes, it is,” Karkaroff said. 

“Not what I meant, Karkaroff. More than likely that someone’s trying to off Longbottom.” 

“Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” Bagman asked. 

“All they had to do was enter his name, and the tournament will take care of the rest,” Professor Moody said. 

It hadn’t occurred to Neville until then that people had died in the tournament. Since the Goblet of Fire had been lit, Rose had told them it was too dangerous. She made no exceptions for anyone, not even Luna or Hermione. 

Now Neville was a champion. He was going to die. 

“You hardly need the Triwizard Tournament to do that,” Professor Snape said. “If I wanted to kill Longbottom, I’d just distract Peta-Lorrum with a shiny object for five minutes. I doubt Longbottom would last that long without her to hold his hand.” 

This time, it was Rose that glared at Professor Snape. Out of the corner of his eye, Neville was sure he caught Professor Dumbledore doing the same thing. 

“Alastor, Severus, that’s not helping,” Professor Sprout said. She turned to Mr. Crouch. “Isn’t there anything we can do? He obviously didn’t enter himself.” 

“So he says,” Karkaroff snapped. 

“There must be some clause forbidding someone from entering him against his will.” 

Mr. Crouch shook his head. “I’m afraid not. As Bagman said, the Goblet of Fire is binding. It chose him. He _must_ compete.” 

* * *

“Brain, what’s going on?” Ginny whispered. “Why did Toad’s name come out of the Goblet?” 

“I wish I could tell you,” Hermione replied, looking at the back room. “Something’s going on, I just don’t know what.” 

“Something’s going on alright,” Ron snapped. “Rose let Neville enter and not us!” 

“You saw his face,” Sally-Anne said. “He was terrified.” 

“Excited is more like it,” Ron said. “Who wouldn’t be? A thousand galleons? Fame and glory? Why did she let him enter and not me?” 

“She _didn’t_ ,” Hermione said. 

“Just cos she likes him best.” 

“You _know_ that’s not true,” Hermione said. “ _If_ Rose were playing favorites, we all know she likes Luna best. If Rose had anything to do with this, Luna’s name would’ve popped out of the Goblet, not Neville’s. Rose is the one that’s been telling you to drop it, that it’s too dangerous. No one knows what we can do better than Rose.” 

“And how would she know what’s gonna happen?” Ron asked. “It’s not like she has anything to do with the tournament, apart from having Taltria and Alavel patrol the Goblet of Fire all the time.” 

Hermione didn’t have an answer to that. What was going on? Rose had insisted that the tournament was too dangerous, as if she knew something they didn’t. Neville’s name came out of the Goblet, but it was the _fourth_ name. That didn’t make sense. Someone must have tricked the Goblet of Fire into thinking there were four schools, but how’d they do that with Taltria and Alavel standing guard? Since Rose ordered them to ignore verbal commands, the only two people in Hogwarts that could command them were Hermione and Rose, and they were told to ignore all commands from anyone other than Rose. That meant that the only person that could’ve put Neville’s name in the Goblet of Fire was Rose, but Hermione knew it wasn’t her. 

If it wasn’t Rose, then who was it? How’d they get it in the Goblet? How’d they convince the Goblet that there were four schools? 

“What _is_ going on?” Harry asked. “Does this mean that Neville’s gonna be in the tournament?” 

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “I hope not.” 

Hermione glanced over at the back room as they all rose to their feet. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just watched another of her friends get dragged off to his doom while she watched helplessly. 

“What about you?” Sally-Anne asked. “Don’t you need to go home?” 

“Not for another…” Hermione paused while she cast a wandless _Tempus_ charm. “Half hour or so.” 

“How do you keep doing that?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“There’s a charm called _Tempus_ that tells you how much time has passed from some point you designate,” Hermione said. “I worked out how to cast it wandlessly, so I just designated six o’clock, then subtract the time from two hours.” 

“That’s brilliant.” 

“Fascinating,” Ron said. “Tournament?” 

“All I know is that Rose knows more about this than she’s letting on,” Hermione said. “Her involvement goes beyond having the Nimblewrights stand guard. She’s not telling me, so Professor Dumbledore must’ve told her not to.” 

“So she tells you everything?” Ron scoffed. 

“As a matter of fact, _Ronald_ , she does,” Hermione snapped. 

“Please don’t start you two,” Sally-Anne pleaded with them. “It was already far more exciting today than I like it to be. Let’s wait until we’ve heard Neville’s side of the story before we start judging him, okay?” 

Hermione forced herself to relax. She didn’t want to start arguing with Ronald over something so small, especially since she wouldn’t be seeing any of them for another few weeks. 

“Sally-Anne’s right,” Hermione said. “You lot can talk to Neville and Rose about it tomorrow, or tonight if she doesn’t just sneak him into his room.” 

“What about you?” Harry asked. 

“I’ll just have to stress out about it tonight until I hear from Rose,” Hermione said. “It’s fine. It’s not as if I’ve got classes in the morning.” 

“Lucky you,” Ginny grumbled. 

* * *

Rose raised her hand. 

“This had better be good, Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Snape warned. 

“Why did it pick a fourth champion?” she asked. 

“That is an excellent question,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Considering the goblet is only supposed to select three champions, it seems someone must have tampered with it.” He held up a burnt piece of parchment. “Let’s see…” He adjusted his half-moon spectacles. “He wasn’t entered under Hogwarts. According to the Goblet of Fire, Mr. Longbottom is the champion for… well, I don’t think it matters right now. Perhaps we should all get some rest, and come back at this tomorrow.” 

He turned to the other two school heads. 

“Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, my sincerest apologies for this incident. Despite how it may look, this was not an attempt on the part of Hogwarts to enter an additional contestant.” 

“Of course not,” Karkaroff snapped. “You just had one of your own students take over protecting the Goblet of Fire, and had the nerve to act surprised when two of your students were chosen.” 

“Igor,” Professor Snape said, “believe me when I say that Longbottom poses no threat to Durmstrang’s chances of winning. He is the least qualified student in Hogwarts. He won’t last two seconds, much less win.” 

Karkaroff glared at Professor Snape, then at Neville. Neville took a step back when the other headmaster’s eyes fell on him. 

“You might be right, Severus,” he scoffed. “Viktor! We’re leaving!” 

He turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Krum to catch up with him. 

“Ve are going too,” Madame Maxime said to Fleur. 

The two women spoke in French, both sounding angry, as they left the small room. Bagman and Crouch followed close behind them. 

“Mr. Diggory, Mr. Longbottom, you two return to your rooms,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I’m sure Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are both eager to start celebrating.” 

Cedric didn’t even look at Neville on his way out. He hadn’t spoken a word since the whole thing started, and Neville didn’t blame him. 

_I deserve it. It’s all my fault._

“Mr. Longbottom, don’t keep them waiting,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“Sorry, Professor,” he said, snapping back to reality. 

“Come on,” Rose said. “Let’s head back.” 

“Rose, would you please stay for a moment?” 

“No.” 

Everyone stared at Rose, although none of them looked surprised apart from Neville. 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, _sir_.” 

“You misunderstand. I need to–” 

“I’m not leaving Toad’s side,” Rose said. 

“I’m sure Longbottom can survive one night without you to make sure he doesn’t choke on his own tongue,” Professor Snape said. 

“There’s a difference between surviving and living,” Rose shot back. 

Neville watched as Rose gave her other favorite professor a glare that he’d never seen on her face. All for him. 

_I’m not worth that._

“Rose, you don’t–” Neville started. 

“Yes, I do. I’m going back to Gryffindor Tower with Toad. If you want to talk to me, Old Man, you’ll have to wait until after that.” 

Professor Dumbledore closed his eyes, and Neville was certain he was seeing Professor Dumbledore frustrated for the first time. 

“My office immediately after you’re finished. Bring Taltria and Alavel.” 

“Fine.” 

Rose led Neville out of the room and into the Great Hall. Neville’s footsteps echoed through the room, and he found it creepy for it to be so quiet. 

Neville’s head spun with everything that had just happened. Why did it have to be him? 

Rose didn’t say a word until they got to the sixth floor. 

“Do you want to stop by the Room of Requirement?” Rose asked. 

“What for?” Neville asked. 

“We don’t have to go right back to the common room,” Rose said. “We don’t have to go back at all, if you don’t want.” 

Neville didn’t want to go back. With no one around, he wanted to run away. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted nothing more than to take Rose’s hand and run away. He wanted to leave everything behind; Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament, angry professors, mean students. Neville wanted to run away from it all. 

He didn’t realize he was crying until tears blurred his vision. 

“It’s gonna be alright, Toad,” Rose said. “Everything’s gonna be fine.” 

“Didn’t you hear them?” Neville sobbed. “I’ve got to compete. You said the Triwizard Tournament’s supposed to be life-threatening to seventh-years, and I’m just a fourth-year! I’m gonna die!” 

“No you’re not!” Rose said, rounding on her friend. “I swear, Toad, I’m gonna keep you alive, even if I’ve got to compete in your place.” 

Neville stopped crying and looked at Rose. That was it! If Rose competed in his place, he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. She could take on the challenges without a problem, and she could use her magic to disguise herself as anyone. No one would know it wasn’t him competing. 

“Can you?” he asked, his eyes shining with hope. 

“I doubt it,” Rose said, destroying every scrap of hope he had. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know how the contract works, but I doubt I can compete in your place.” 

“Then… Then I’m…” 

Neville collapsed and began to sob uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his face, which he covered so Rose wouldn’t see him. He hated himself for looking so foolish in front of her, but he couldn’t stop. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I can’t… I can’t stop.” 

“It’s alright,” Rose said, crouching down next to him. She put her arms around him and rested his head on her shoulder. “You’re scared. It’s hard to stop crying when you’re scared. It’s just you and me, Toad, so you don’t have to worry about it. Just keep crying until you feel better.” 

For what felt like hours, Neville did nothing more than cry. He was so scared he didn’t know what else to do. What else was there to do? He was going to die. Someone murdered him simply by putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. Now there was nothing he could do but cry. 

“I don’t want to,” he sobbed. “Please don’t make me.” 

Rose didn’t say a word the entire time he cried. She sat with him and stroked his hair, smiling the warmest smile Neville had ever seen. Not until after he’d finally stopped crying did she say anything. 

“You’ll be alright, Toad,” Rose said. “I’m gonna make sure of it. We’ve got three weeks until the first task, and you’re gonna be ready for it. We’re gonna be running drills every day, and I’m putting you through survival training, but you’ll be ready.” 

“What’s survival training?” Neville asked. 

“I drop you in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and you’ve got to find your way back,” Rose said. “It was one of the first training drills Ali and I did.” 

Neville groaned and dropped his head back on Rose’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll start you with somewhere easy,” Rose said. “It’s going to be rough at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. I don’t just mean the training, I mean all of it. I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you you’ll make it out alright, but you’ll survive.” 

Neville wiped the tears from his eyes and picked his head up from Rose’s shoulder. 

“Can you not tell anyone I broke down like that?” he asked. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Rose said. “That’s what Alice always tells me when I cry. She just holds me and runs her hand through my hair.” 

“When do _you_ cry?” Neville asked. 

He couldn’t imagine Rose crying. She was always so confident and brave, unlike him. 

“I can’t exactly cry anymore. It’s a side effect of _veil of undeath_. I can still cry, just no tears come out.” 

They sat together in silence for another few minutes. Neville wasn’t sure if Rose was waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t know what else to say. All he could think about was the Triwizard Tournament and how he would be dead before Christmas. 

“Do you remember the dragon from last year?” Rose asked. “The one into which that boggart changed?” 

Neville remembered the dragon looming over Rose as she screamed in terror. He remembered the chaos that ensued. He hated remembering it, not only because the dragon scared him, but because Rose being afraid scared him more. 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s called Valignatiejir. It… _he_ hurt me not long before I came to Hogwarts. He…” 

Neville looked at Rose and saw that her eyes were squeezed shut. Her face was contorted in discomfort. 

“Rose!” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, returning to normal. “I still can’t talk about it. It helps to talk about it, but… After it happened, Sk’lar held me and I cried. I cried for weeks. I couldn’t stop. Sometimes that’s all you can do.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Neville said. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Rose said. “I’m sorry all this is happening to you. You’re a good person, Toad, and you don’t deserve this.” 

She climbed to her feet and offered her hand to Neville. 

“Come on. Let’s head back.” 

“It’s gonna be horrible, isn’t it?” Neville asked, taking her hand and allowing her to help him up. 

“Probably,” Rose replied. “Most of our house sees this as a good thing, but we know it’s not.” 

They walked to Gryffindor Tower in silence. The Fat Lady watched them as they approached. 

“They’re waiting for you in there,” she said. 

“You don’t have to face them,” Rose said. “I can just teleport you straight to your room.” 

“I’d love to,” Neville said, “but if I can’t face them, how can I face the rest of the tournament?” 

“Don’t be a champion yet. Just be Neville for tonight.” 

“I can’t. I’ve got to face them. Best deal with it now rather than tomorrow morning.” Neville stared at the portrait. “Last year, during the earthquake, I wanted to quit. Every time we got to a cave-in, I wanted to just let someone else deal with it, but I was the one with the sword, and I signed up for it. If I’d let someone else deal with it, I would’ve let you down.” 

Rose smiled at him, and suddenly, everything didn’t seem so bad. He felt like he could face the world with her by his side. 

“You wouldn’t let me down this time.” 

“It’s still something I’ve got to do, just like it was last year. I couldn’t quit then, and I can’t quit now.” 

Rose didn’t say anything; she just smiled at him. 

“What?” 

“That’s a good first step,” she said. “Ready to take the next one?” 

“No, but I will anyway,” he said. 

“Good. I’ve got to go see Professor Dumbledore, and besides, it’ll be better if you do this on your own.” 

“Why?” 

Neville went pale. Why did Rose think it was a good idea to leave? Was she abandoning him? He knew it; he just wasn’t worth standing by. 

“Trust me, it’ll be better if you go in on your own,” Rose said. “I’m not far behind, I promise. Remember: One foot in front of the other.” 

“And do what I’ve got to do,” Neville said, nodding. “Thanks for everything Rose.” 

He and Rose held each other close. He didn’t want to let her go. If he did, she might not come back, so he held onto her for as long as he could. 

The Fat Lady cleared her throat. “They’re waiting.” 

“Right,” Neville said. 

He and Rose backed away from one another, then she vanished. 

Neville stared at the empty space for a moment, then turned to the portrait. 

“I don’t suppose you believe that I’ve forgotten the password?” he asked. 

“I’d be more surprised if you remembered it, but you’re not getting off that easy,” the Fat Lady said as her canvas swung open. 

“Of course not.” 

Neville climbed through the portal, and found most of Gryffindor waiting for him. The moment he got through, there were cheers and a rush of people with questions. 

“What happened?” 

“How’d you do it?” 

“She let you, didn’t she?” 

“Are you two–” 

“Quiet!” 

Everyone turned to Ginny, whose voice was loud enough to silence everyone. 

“Give him some space,” Sally-Anne said, pushing her way through the crowd. “Neville, are you alright?” 

“I’ve been better,” Neville replied, thankful that he had a moment to breathe. 

“‘Been better’?!” Fred exclaimed. 

“Come on!” George shouted. “Let’s hear it for–” 

“Stop right there!” Sally-Anne shouted. 

“I didn’t put my name in the Goblet of Fire,” Neville said. “Rose didn’t either.” 

“So you can all stop asking him about it right now,” Sally-Anne said. “Celebrate if you must, but leave him out of it.” She turned to Neville. “Come on, Neville. We’ll walk you to your room.” 

“You believe me, right?” he whispered. 

“Of course we do,” Ginny said as they pushed their way through the crowd. “No question.” 

There were cheers as they began the journey to his room, which Ginny silenced with an explosion above everyone’s heads. 

Through everything else, Neville was glad his friends had come to his rescue. Some small part of him knew he needed to do this on his own, but the rest of him said “Not yet.” 

“Where’s Rose?” Hermione asked. 

“She thought it was better if she didn’t come through with me,” Neville said. 

“Probably best,” Sally-Anne said. “They’re already making a lot of assumptions. They’re just stories, so don’t pay them any mind.” 

“Hold up!” 

They turned back to see Harry running to catch up to them. 

“I had to do something with Ron,” he said. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Ginny huffed. 

“Any idea what’s going on?” Harry asked. 

“Rose and Professor Dumbledore don’t know what happened,” Neville said. “Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime are angry at Professor Dumbledore. I think they think he got Rose to let me in.” 

“But I doubt Rose could’ve got the goblet to allow a fourth person,” Hermione said. “Even if she could, she wouldn’t. She’s trying to make up for last year with Professor Dumbledore. She wouldn’t risk ruining the tournament like this.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell them ‘No’?” Ginny asked. 

“Mr. Crouch says I’ve got to,” Neville said as they reached his room. 

He collapsed on his bed as everyone took seats around the room. He wanted to cry again, but he held back his tears. 

“We’ll sort this out,” Sally-Anne said. 

“There’s nothing to sort out,” Neville said. “I’ve got to compete! I’m going to die!” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Rose won’t let you die,” Hermione added. 

“ _We_ won’t let you die,” Ginny said. “Right?” 

“We’ve got your back,” Harry said. “I don’t know how much help I can be with the tournament, but I know all about dealing with unwanted attention.” 

“We can all practice with you every day,” Ginny said. 

“That’s what Rose says she’s gonna do,” Neville said. “That and survival training.” 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. 

“Why, what’s that?” Ginny asked. 

“It’s something Alice did with Rose,” Hermione said. “Basically, she’s gonna drop Neville somewhere hard to get out of, forcing him to think on his feet to escape.” 

“Forbidden Forest,” Neville mumbled. 

“Sounds about right,” Hermione said. “I can see if I can come up with some spells to help you through it, and–” 

“It won’t matter,” Neville said. “I can’t cast spells.” 

“You’re a wizard, Neville, of course you can,” Hermione replied. “You would’ve been expelled by now if you couldn’t do something.” 

Neville thought back to his classes over the past three years. He barely passed anything that needed magic. He _could_ do it, but it was as if there were some sort of block on his ability to do it. That was why he liked training with Rose; he felt like he could do something when he wielded the Sword of Gryffindor. 

“You’re good at Herbology,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t you look up the types of plants in the Forbidden Forest? If you know where they grow, you can figure out where you are.” 

Neville shook his head. “I can’t.” 

“Of course you can!” Ginny exclaimed. 

“We’ll help you find some books about it tomorrow,” Sally-Anne said. “Even Rose will give you some time to relax.” 

Neville couldn’t believe that everyone was trying to help him. No one had ever cared about Neville, but he had friends. He forgot that sometimes. 

“Get some rest,” Sally-Anne said. “Everything will be alright.” 

No matter how hard Neville tried that night to believe it, he knew everything would go wrong. It always did. 


	8. Surviving and Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neville learns how to survive and live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** The Forbidden Forest and all its usual inhabitants are owned by J.K. Rowling.

When Neville woke up the next morning, he wasn’t in his bed. He was on the ground, looking up at the night sky through a bunch of trees. 

“Ah!” 

Neville sat upright and looked around the forest. All he saw were trees, and even then he could only see a few feet away through the dark. 

“What do I do?” he asked as he began to panic. “What do I do?!” 

He felt around for his pack. Rose must’ve left it with him, otherwise he was defenceless. She’d know that. 

His heart lept when his fingers closed around the strap, and he pulled it to him. The first thing Neville grabbed was his wand, and the second were his gloves. 

“I think I can do this,” he said, holding his wand. “ _Lumos!_ ” 

His wand sparked and emitted a dim light. 

“Good enough,” he said. 

He put his wand between his knees so he could put on his gloves. Then he held it with his teeth so he could put on his shoes. When he was ready, he slung his pack over his shoulder. 

“Now what?” 

Even with the light, Neville still couldn’t see more than ten feet through the trees, if that. He’d never been in the Forbidden Forest before, so how was he supposed to find his way out? 

“If I just knew the way to the castle…” 

He looked at the trees. Maybe he could climb one and get a better view. The castle would have lights on, so he could probably see it from there. 

The only problem was that Neville had never climbed a tree in his life. 

“I guess I’m supposed to be learning things today.” 

He tucked his wand behind his ear, just as he’d seen Luna do hundreds of times, then jumped onto the nearest tree. 

The bark was rough under his hands, even with his gloves on, but it gave him a good grip on the tree. He brought one foot up, then the other. When he tried his second foot, his foot slipped, and he almost fell. 

“Come on, Toad, you can do this,” he groaned. 

He repositioned his foot, then reached out his hand for one of the branches. 

“Got it!” he exclaimed as he hauled himself up. 

CRACK! 

The branch snapped off, and he fell back to the ground. Neville landed hard on his back and laid on the ground for a minute. 

“I can’t do it,” he said, tears running down his face. “I can’t!” 

_Yes, you can!_ Rose’s voice said. _I wouldn’t have put you here if I thought you couldn’t do it!_

“That’s right,” Neville said, grunting as he climbed to his feet. “Rose is counting on me to figure this out. She knows what she’s doing, and I won’t let her down.” 

Neville tried climbing the tree again, nearly falling a few more times. Every time he did, he hugged the tree as hard as he could. 

His spirits lifted as he neared the top of the canopy. 

“Almost there!” 

He was soaking wet from the rain, but his gloves helped him keep his grip on the tree. The canopy was full of branches that Neville used to make it to the top of the tree. He balanced on a branch and stuck his head out of the canopy. 

The rain was coming down in sheets, and the cold drops stung his skin when they touched it. It was dark, and hard to see anything through the rain, but he saw a light in the distance. It was above the treetops, so it couldn’t be something in the forest. 

“That must be the castle,” Neville said. “How do I remember which direction that is when I climb down?” 

After a moment, an idea struck him. He drew the Sword of Gryffindor from his glove, then marked the part of the tree facing the castle. He continued the marks as he climbed down the tree. 

The climb down the tree turned out to be easier and faster than the climb up, but hurt a lot more when he found another weak branch. 

After picking himself up, Neville spotted the marks he made and made one more at the base of the tree. 

“Alright, Toad, let’s start walking.” 

* * *

“I can’t believe this!” Ron exclaimed at breakfast. 

“You’ve said that already,” Ginny said. 

Harry glanced at Ron, then turned back to his food. 

“Rose said she doesn’t know what happened,” Sally-Anne said. “Neither does Neville.” 

“Of course she does,” Ron said. “Dumbledore probably made her say that or something. You know what I think happened?” 

“If I say ‘yes’, will you shut up?” Ginny asked. 

“I think Dumbledore let her enter Neville so Hogwarts got two champions,” Ron said. “Probably made her promise to donate the money to Hogwarts or something.” 

“If Rose said–” 

“Maybe he did,” Harry said. “It’s not like Rose cares what we think anyway.” 

“What?!” Ginny screeched. 

“Harry, that’s an awful thing to say,” Sally-Anne said. “Rose would risk her life for us.” 

“Unless there’s something better to do,” Ron said. “If she cares so much, where is she?” 

Sally-Anne glanced over her shoulder. 

“She’s not at the Ravenclaw table,” Harry said. “I haven’t seen her or Neville all morning.” 

“Probably off celebrating or something,” Ron said. 

“Would you two stop it?” Sally-Anne said. “We’ve got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs in a few minutes, which is going to be hard enough without you two squabbling like children.” 

Ginny snickered, but Sally-Anne silenced her with a quick glare. 

“What’s that mean?” Ron asked. 

“Look behind us,” Harry muttered. 

He’d caught the looks the moment they’d walked inside the Great Hall. 

Hufflepuffs were normally nice to them. They’d smile, talk amongst themselves, maybe stop by and say hello. Today, they were whispering to themselves, and if they looked at Gryffindor at all, it was all glares and scowls. 

“What’s their problem?” Ron asked. 

“They think we did this,” Harry said. “I guess we did, in a way.” 

Sally-Anne glared at him. 

“She’s the one that left Alavel with me,” Harry said. “He ruins everything, but Rose won’t get him to back off.” 

“Rose did that to protect you!” 

“Then why does he always have to ruin everything?” Harry asked. “Sirius won’t tell me anything, and every time he suggests doing something fun, Alavel tells him how dangerous it’s going to be, and suddenly Sirius changes his mind.” 

Harry clenched his fists. The mere thought of Alavel made him angry. Why couldn’t Taltria have gone with him? Why did Rose hate him so much? Did she just hate all of them except Luna, Neville, and Hermione? 

“Calm down.” 

Harry glared at Sally-Anne, but she gave it right back to him. After a moment, he eased up and took a few breaths. Whatever Sally-Anne had to say, it was worth listening to her. 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne said. “Now, why don’t you practice Quidditch after Care for Magical Creatures? They only cancelled the matches, but you can probably still practice. I think it would help clear your head. We’ll talk to Rose about Alavel during dinner. Once she hears that he’s not working out, she’ll come up with a better solution. She’s not completely mad.” 

Harry liked the thought of flying again. The ground rushing away from him, the relaxing feeling of complete freedom. Once he got into the air, all his troubles would be over. 

“I take it by that smile you approve?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, not realizing that he’d been smiling. “Thanks.” 

“Ronald,” Sally-Anne said, turning to Ron. 

She sat up straight, and even though Ron was taller than her, even sitting down, it looked like she towered over him. She glared at him with fire that would make Professor McGonagall proud, and carried herself as if she owned the whole world. 

_Did her mum teach her how to do that?_ Harry wondered, thinking back to a year ago when Mrs. Perks stared down Uncle Vernon with the same expression. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself, going after your friends when they’re not around to defend themselves.” 

“What? I–” 

“Do you think Rose likes lying to us?” 

Ron frowned, apparently caught off guard by Sally-Anne’s sudden shift in tone. 

“I guess not.” 

“If she didn’t want Professor Dumbledore to put her in a position that forced her to lie to us, do you think he could?” 

“She could probably just leave, I guess.” 

“Would Professor Dumbledore have given Rose, who is known for ignoring rules for fun, the ability to enter anyone she wanted without letting her know the exact consequences?” 

Ron glanced over at Professor Dumbledore. 

“Probably not?” 

“He said people have died, so we know it’s dangerous. Of all people, would Rose put her friends in danger like that, or allowed any of them to put themselves in danger?” 

Ginny started to laugh at Ron, but Harry glared at her and mouthed “Let her finish.” 

“Oi!” Ron exclaimed, catching his sister. 

“Don’t pay attention to her, pay attention to me,” Sally-Anne said. “Would Rose put her friends in danger?” 

Ron shook his head. 

“I’m glad we all agree then,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry looked at Ron, who looked like he had no idea what just happened, then at Ginny, who looked like she wanted to marry Sally-Anne. 

“Princess, you’re the best!” Ginny exclaimed. 

“Thank you, Ginny,” Sally-Anne replied. She turned back to Ron and Harry. “We’ve got to stand together. The tournament’s already divided the school, and unfortunately, we seem to be the only ones that accept what’s happening. Rose had nothing to do with this, and Neville’s just as shocked as everyone else. Let’s all calm down and take this one step at a time. Agreed?” 

“Agreed,” Harry said. 

“Agreed,” Ron and Ginny added. 

“Let’s head to class,” Sally-Anne said. “I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day.” 

* * *

As his friends were enjoying breakfast, Neville was still trying to find his way back to Hogwarts. It hadn’t looked that far when he’d seen it in the distance, but he felt as if he’d been walking for hours. 

As the sun was rising in the east, he heard a noise in the trees near him. Neville ducked behind a tree and listened for the source of the sound. 

Neville saw a pair of centaurs trotting through the woods. They were both much taller than he, and each had a bow and quiver slung over their shoulders. 

“I know I heard something over here,” one said. 

“You’re probably just hearing things again,” the other said. “Remember last week?” 

“I _did_ hear something that time!” the first one protested. 

“Sure, but you thought it was something dangerous,” the second one said. 

“It could’ve been!” 

“Yes, the little blonde human girl was _so_ terrifying.” 

Neville watched them argue for another minute, then tried to sneak away. 

_SNAP!_

“Tried” being the operative word. 

“What was that?” 

“For once, I heard it too.” 

Neville turned around and sprinted straight into a third centaur. 

“Well, what have we here?” the centaur asked. “A little human lost in centaur territory?” 

“Told you!” the first centaur said. 

“Quiet, you two,” the third one said. “What are you doing out here, boy?” 

“Trying to f-find my way b-back to Hogwarts,” Neville said. 

“Hogwarts is miles away. More likely that you’re spying on us.” 

“I wasn’t!” 

“Let’s take him to Magorian,” the second one said. “He’ll know what to do with him.” 

Neville looked at each of the centaurs. They had him surrounded, but he still had a chance to escape. 

“Thinking of running?” one of them asked as he drew his bow and knocked an arrow. “Go ahead.” 

Neville looked at the arrow pointed at him and backed down. 

“No,” Neville said. 

“Bag,” another centaur said, holding out his hand. 

Neville slipped off his pack and handed it to the centaur. 

They shoved Neville ahead of them as they lead him into a large camp. There were centaurs walking all over. Wooden houses and tents littered the camp. 

The centaurs brought Neville into one of the tents where a larger centaur was waiting. 

“Magorian,” one of the centaurs greeted him. “We found this human lurking in the woods in our territory. We believe him to be a spy.” 

“I’m not a spy!” Neville protested. 

Magorian eyed Neville, scanning every detail of him. 

“What’s your name, human?” 

“Neville Longbottom.” 

“What are you doing so far from Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom?” Magorian asked. 

“My friend brought me here, so I could practice for the Triwizard Tournament.” 

Magorian approached Neville until he stood over him. 

“Do you think me an idiot, human?” 

“No.” 

“Then why do you give me this miserable excuse for a lie?!” 

“It’s not a lie!” 

“Hold him!” Magorian ordered. “We’ll keep him until I think of something to do with him.” 

The centaurs dragged Neville to a small hut. They bound his hands and feet, then tossed him on the ground. 

Neville sat in the holding cell for hours, doing nothing more than staring at the ceiling. 

He discovered that the guard changed every hour, something he learned by counting the seconds. Neville wondered if Hermione could teach him the Tempus Charm. Not that he could cast it if she did, but it’d still be something valuable to know. 

Every time the guard changed the new one would take his place near Neville. They didn’t watch him, but sat next to his bag, and Neville wasn’t going to leave without it. 

_I can probably use the sword to cut myself free,_ Neville thought. _Then what? Hope I can fight my way out? I won’t last two seconds against them!_

So Neville sat and waited. He waited for Rose to come save him, but as the hours dragged on, he lost hope that he’d ever see Hogwarts again. His stomach hurt, his mouth was dry, and his head ached. He felt dizzy and wanted nothing more than to go home. 

Neville looked outside and saw the sun going down. 

_It’ll be dark soon,_ Neville thought. _Wait a minute!_

Neville waited for the guard to change, then got to work. He shifted around on the floor until his back was to the wall. Without taking his eyes off the new guard, he drew the Sword of Gryffindor and jabbed it into the wall behind him. As subtly as he could he worked at his restraints until he could move his wrists again. 

Neville pulled his sword out of the wall and turned to the guard. To his surprise, the guard handed him his pack. 

“Hogwarts is south-southeast of the forest,” the centaur said. “There’s a path that runs through this camp. The centaurs use it to maneuver the Forbidden Forest. The path lets out near Hagrid’s hut.” 

Neville took his pack and slid it back over his shoulder. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because even after the poison gas several moons ago, I don’t believe that humans are evil,” the centaur replied. “Go, Neville Longbottom. Quickly, before anyone hears.” 

“Who are you?” Neville asked. 

“My name is Firenze.” 

“Thank you, Firenze,” Neville said. 

He poked his head out of the hut. The camp was still crawling with centaurs, but he clung to the edge of the hut and slipped back into the forest. 

Neville ran down the path, not looking back for a second. He heard the thunder of hooves beating the dirt not far behind him and dove into the bushes. Neville watched from his hiding place as a group of centaurs ran past him. 

Neville’s plan to run into the setting sun seemed to be working. The centaurs hadn’t been able to spot him with the sun in their eyes, so they didn’t see him dive into the bushes. 

_Almost there, Toad._

Neville counted almost 30 minutes before the centaurs gave up and returned to their camp. He watched them leave, then ran as fast as he could along the path. 

* * *

Harry watched the Hufflepuffs all day. Even if they never said it, it was obvious that they blamed Rose, and by extension Gryffindor, for what happened. 

“Anyone else getting the feeling that the entire school’s turned on us?” Sally-Anne asked as they walked to the Pitch. 

“Herbology was awful,” Ginny said. “Luna said she’s been getting the same thing we are.” 

“Hufflepuff’s angry at Rose,” Harry said. 

“Everyone else is probably upset it wasn’t them,” Sally-Anne said. “I’ll be happy when Rose is around to defend herself.” 

“I’ll be happy when I’m up in the air,” Harry said. “Ginny, Ron, either of you want to fly?” 

“We haven’t got our own brooms,” Ginny said. 

“Right,” Harry said. “Sorry.” 

“I’m sure they appreciate you offering,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry’s heart sank when they reached the Pitch. 

“It’s locked!” he exclaimed. 

“What for?” Sally-Anne asked. “That seems odd that they’d actually lock us out. There must be a good reason for it.” 

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry said, mounting his broom. “I’m gonna see if I can see what’s going on.” 

“Be careful,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry kicked off and watched the ground drift away as he flew higher and higher. He was free once again. Nothing to worry about, no teachers, no Alavel, no… 

“Mr. Potter, get down here this instant!” 

_One teacher, then,_ he thought when he saw Professor McGonagall standing beside his friends. 

He drifted down and landed next to Sally-Anne and Ron. 

“Why can’t I fly?” Harry asked as his feet touched the ground. 

“You of all people should know that flying is forbidden outside of class, scheduled practices, and Quidditch matches,” Professor McGonagall said. “No exceptions.” 

“Why?” 

“Because we don’t need children flying all over the grounds causing trouble,” she said. Muttering, she added, “We’ve got Peta-Lorrum for that.” 

“What if Harry helped Madame Hooch?” Sally-Anne asked. “As her teaching assistant?” 

Professor McGonagall turned back to them, eyeing Sally-Anne with a glare that could see straight through anyone. 

“Is that even an option?” Harry asked. 

“Impossible. The privilege of being a teaching assistant is only offered to sixth- and seventh-years, and few of them take it, if any.” 

“With all due respect, Professor, first-years aren’t allowed to play Quidditch, second-years aren’t allowed to take Arithmancy, third-years weren’t allowed to go after Sirius Black, and fourth-years aren’t allowed into the Triwizard Tournament.” 

“Potter may not be a teaching assistant.” 

“You’ve made exceptions for us before. What’s one more? I think we can agree that the only student more qualified to help Madame Hooch is Cedric, and he’s too busy being one of the Hogwarts champions.” 

“And that’s my problem right there, Perks,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “That girl has seen fit to ruin the Triwizard Tournament. It is the Headmaster’s kindness that keeps her in this school and out of prison, so as far as I’m concerned, we’ve _already_ made another exception.” 

“I’m sorry if what I’m about to say offends you, Professor, but you’re wrong.” 

Professor McGonagall towered over Sally-Anne. The others took a step back, but Sally-Anne stood her ground. 

“Oh really?” 

“Rose knew about the Triwizard Tournament before we did. Neville told us that Professor Karkaroff wanted to leave, but Viktor Krum’s got to stay here. Rose must’ve known that any student chosen for the Triwizard Tournament would be required to stay at Hogwarts for the entire tournament.” 

“And your point is…?” 

“It’s crossed Rose’s mind that the Triwizard Tournament would’ve been the perfect way to force Hermione’s parents to let her stay here. If Rose put a name in the Goblet of Fire, it would’ve been Hermione’s, not Neville’s. Hermione is Rose’s best friend, and even if no one else can see it, I can: Rose misses Hermione a lot.” 

Harry looked from Sally-Anne to Professor McGonagall. He didn’t know where Sally-Anne found the courage to stand up to her, but it might’ve been the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. 

“We never told you this, but Rose matched the donations last year for Harry’s broom,” Sally-Anne continued. “She can conjure up real gold with her magic, not fake Leprechaun gold. She’s already well-known for her work during the earthquake last year, so she’s got no need for money or glory. Even if she wanted it, she’d enter herself, not one of us.” 

“Since you seem to know so much, Perks, answer me this: What if Peta-Lorrum did it for Longbottom, not for herself?” 

“Because Neville, like Luna, blindly listens to Rose, who told us it was too dangerous. She refused to let the Twins enter, she refused to let Ron enter… she made no exceptions.” 

Professor McGonagall glared at Sally-Anne, then at Harry, then back at Sally-Anne. 

“Tell me, Ms. Perks. What makes you think Potter would be a good teaching assistant?” 

“Because he’s the best Seeker Gryffindor’s ever seen,” Ron said. 

“Professor McGonagall, you used to play Quidditch,” Sally-Anne said. “In your opinion as a former star of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, who would you pick?” 

“I won’t deny that Potter performs well in a match, but his Quidditch skills don’t count half as much as his teaching skills in this case. What makes you think he can teach?” 

“I taught Ginny last year,” Harry said. 

Professor McGonagall turned her death glare at Ginny, who took on the appearance of a frightened mouse. 

“Ms. Weasley, is this true?” 

“Yes, Professor,” Ginny replied. “He trained me as Gryffindor’s reserve Seeker.” 

“And you felt he taught you well?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“How so?” 

“Erm… I mean… I guess I got what he was saying pretty quickly. He kept trying to catch me off guard, but I guess that was just to make sure the other team didn’t. We worked pretty hard, but I thought that was just a Gryffindor Quidditch Team thing, since Wood was always worse.” 

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After a lifetime of everyone hating him, his friends were all standing up for him to Professor McGonagall. Last year they’d worked together to buy him his new broom, and this year they were working together to find a way for him to fly again. 

Once again, Sally-Anne was at the forefront of it all. She always stood up for him, always listened to him. She was such a good friend. 

Professor McGonagall glared at Sally-Anne, then at Harry. Harry wished he knew what she was thinking. Was she considering it? Was she thinking of a way to say “No”? 

“The final decision rests with Madame Hooch,” Professor McGonagall said. “I will talk to her and see what I can do. Mr. Potter, your friends make an excellent case for you, and I will convey this to her when I see her after dinner.” 

Harry opened his mouth, but Professor McGonagall held up her hand to indicate that she wasn’t finished. 

“I cannot guarantee that she will agree, although she is most familiar with your flying abilities. I also make no promises about how much flying you will do. If she agrees, then I expect you to present yourself with the upmost decency. Remember, Mr. Potter, I am vouching for you, which means if you make a mistake, it doesn’t only reflect poorly on you, but on myself and all of Gryffindor.” 

Harry waited for a moment after Professor McGonagall stopped talking to make sure she wasn’t about to start again. 

“Thank you, Professor!” Harry exclaimed. 

“I’m not the one you should be thanking.” Professor McGonagall turned to Sally-Anne. “Ms. Perks, I will be taking your argument concerning Peta-Lorrum to Professor Dumbledore _during_ dinner. We may also ask you to meet with the Triwizard Tournament Planning Committee in the next few days.” 

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Sally-Anne said. “Professor, might I ask why you came all the way out here?” 

“Looking for Mr. Longbottom,” Professor McGonagall replied. “Ms. Lovegood said she didn’t know where he was, so I came out in search of you four to see if you knew.” 

“We haven’t seen him all day,” Sally-Anne said. “We’ve hardly seen Rose either, except in class.” 

“I know where _she_ is, but she refuses to speak on Mr. Longbottom’s whereabouts,” Professor McGonagall said. 

“She told us she’s preparing him for the tournament,” Sally-Anne said. “That’s all we know.” 

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Sally-Anne. 

“Promise,” Sally-Anne said. 

* * *

It wasn’t long before Neville realized his mistake. 

_The sun sets in the west, and I need to go south-southeast,_ he thought. 

He turned away from the setting sun back towards the centaurs’ camp. 

“I can’t go that way,” he said. “I’ve just got to keep going this way and hope I’m right.” 

He ran down the path for 10 minutes before it turned away from the sun. After another few minutes, Neville came to a river. He looked down at it, but it was too dark to see the bottom. 

“No bridge,” Neville said, looking up and down the river. “Guess I’ll have to swim and hope it’s not dangerous.” 

Neville looked around and grabbed a stick from the ground. He lowered it into the water, and discovered that the water was only a foot deep. 

“I can handle that.” 

He ran through the water, tripping when he was almost to the other side. Neville tried to stand up, but pain shot through his right foot when it touched the ground. He hopped to the other side of the river, then inspected his foot. After poking it, he figured he’d twisted his ankle. 

“It’s alright, Toad,” he said. “Hogwarts can’t be much farther.” 

Neville limped through the Forbidden Forest. He dragged his bad foot, not wanting to put more pressure on it than was necessary. 

“Finally,” he panted when he saw lights in the distance. 

Neville had no idea where he was, but he guessed he had to be near Hagrid’s hut. 

He opened his mouth to call for the Groundskeeper, but a hand covered his mouth. 

Neville grabbed the hand and tried to pull it off, fearing that it was another centaur, but stopped when he felt a familiar welding glove. 

“Rose!” he exclaimed. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he swept his friend up in a hug. 

“I’m so glad to see you!” 

“I’m glad to see you too, Toad,” she said. “Let’s get you fixed up.” 

Rose waved her wand over him and everything stopped hurting. 

“Better?” she asked. 

“Much. It was horrible! I thought the worst was over when I spotted the castle this morning, but then I ran into the centaurs, and they thought I was a spy, but one of them let me go, and I hid for nearly an hour, terrified that they’d find me, but I got away, and limped all the way here.” 

“How’d you find your way back after the centaurs?” Rose asked. 

“Firenze told me to follow the path to Hogwarts,” Neville explained. “That’s how the centaurs navigate the forest. He also said that Hogwarts is south-southeast of the forest, so if I ever get lost, just start going that direction and I’ll get out.” 

“Sounds like it’ll be easy for you tomorrow then,” Rose said. 

“Can’t I get a compass first?” Neville asked as they started back towards the castle. 

“This way, you’ll appreciate it so much more,” Rose said. “That’s why I don’t just give you lot everything.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Neville said. “Thank you so much for helping me Rose.” 

Rose chuckled. 

“What’s so funny?” Neville asked. 

“Survival training really helped me out when I was just starting,” Rose said. “It helped me cope without Alice by my side. But my first time, she had to come and rescue me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Neville said. “But why’s that funny?” 

“Because I didn’t need to rescue you,” Rose said. “You’re doing a great job so far, Toad. I can’t wait to see how good you are when it’s time for the First Task.” 

“But I’m no good,” Neville said. “I could hardly climb that tree, I thought I was gonna die in that centaur camp, I–” 

“You can’t expect to measure up to the best when you’re just starting out,” Rose said. “You start at level one, then you get to level two, and before you know it, you’re level 10. Some days it’ll feel like you didn’t do anything, and others you’ll want to quit, but you’ve got to keep moving forward, because that’s the only way you’ll ever get to where you’re going.” 

“Do you really think I can do it?” Neville asked. 

“No,” Rose replied. “I _know_ you can.” She took his arm and led him away from the castle. “It’s almost dinner time. We’ll stop by Hagrid’s so you can get cleaned up.” 

Neville looked down at his clothes. He was still in his pajamas, which were torn and covered in mud. 

“Look at the bright side,” Rose said. 

“What?” 

“You don’t have to get blood stains out of your clothes!” 

They vanished and reappeared back in the Forbidden Forest near Hagrid’s hut. 

“Where was I?” Neville asked. 

“Just near the boundary wall, north of the castle,” Rose said. She led him down a path to Hagrid’s hut. “That’s the path you were on. Follow that a ways, and you’ll get back to the centaurs.” 

“I’ll pass for today,” Neville said as Rose knocked on the door. 

“Who is it?” came Hagrid’s voice. 

“Official Hogwarts business!” Rose replied. 

Hagrid opened the door. 

“Neville! What happened to you? Everyone’s been looking all over for you today.” 

“I keep telling everyone, I’m preparing him for the Triwizard Tournament,” Rose said. “As per Professor Dumbledore’s orders.” 

“What’re you doing out here?” Hagrid asked. 

“Neville needs a place to get cleaned up before dinner,” Rose replied. “He’s too shy to change behind a tree.” 

Neville blushed, in part of the thought of changing so close to Rose, and in part because he never thought to try changing in the Forbidden Forest. 

“Go right ahead,” Hagrid said, stepping aside to let Neville enter. 

“Thanks,” Neville said. 

He ducked into a back room and pulled off his ruined pajamas. He returned after changing into clean clothes, not that it mattered much. 

When he got outside, Rose waved her wand over him, and he felt like he’d just been scrubbed clean. 

“Much better,” Rose said. “Thanks, Professor Hagrid!” 

“You two shouldn’t be wandering around in the dark,” Hagrid told them. 

“It’s fine,” Rose said. “It’s only a few minute walk back to the castle, and we’ll be just in time for dinner!” 

Neville’s stomach growled its approval. 

“Sounds good to me,” Neville said. “Thanks again, Hagrid!” 

Neville walked to Hogwarts with Rose. He didn’t know what would happen next, but he knew that with Rose next to him, he could handle anything. 


	9. Fanning the Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone tries to kill Neville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Despite owning him, J.K. Rowling at no point made an honest attempt to kill Neville. Probably.

Neville watched from his perch in the treetops as a small swarm of acromantulas approached him. He glanced behind him and lept to another branch when he didn’t see a web on it. 

It had been over two weeks since his first round in the Forbidden Forest. It was easy to navigate once he’d gotten the hang of it. 

Neville looked at the watch Hermione had sent him a week ago. He flipped it open and checked the compass inside the clock. 

“Alright, castle’s that way,” he said, pointing southeast of his location. “Or, roughly that way, at least.” 

He climbed above the treetops and peered into the distance. He could just barely make out a familiar cluster of lights far off in front of him. 

“Yup, that way.” 

Rose dropped him in random places throughout the forest. That morning, he had awoken in the middle of an acromantula nest. As he had learned, their leader was called “Aragog” and had thousands of mouths to feed. 

Neville jumped to another branch, then ducked behind a tree. He cupped his hands to his mouth and made a series of hissing noises. 

As expected, the acromantulas stopped dead in their tracks. Neville rustled the leaves in his tree and the spiders backed away. 

Neville threw some leaves in front of him to check for a spider web, then continued his journey through the treetops. 

A few minutes later, something on the forest floor caught Neville’s eye. It was a single rose with brilliant red petals, adding a splash of color to an otherwise gloomy surrounding. The light from his wand tucked behind his ear wasn’t what revealed it; the flower’s petals were glowing. 

“It can’t be.” 

Neville climbed down from the trees, something at which he’d become far more proficient in the past two weeks, and walked over to the rose. He looked up and saw a small break in the treetops through which rainwater reached the flower. 

“It is,” Neville whispered. “It’s a crimson storm. I didn’t realize they could grow around here.” 

Neville held the flower by its stem, then cut through it with his sword. He cradled it with one arm, and used the other to climb back into the treetops. 

“Gotta keep it wet,” he muttered as he climbed above the trees. 

He looked back and saw movement behind him, giving him a location of more acromantulas. 

He started moving across the treetops, keeping the flower in the rain. If he didn’t, it would wither before he reached the castle. 

“Sun doesn’t come up until breakfast,” Neville muttered. He glanced at his watch again. “It’s just after six, so we’ve got time to kill.” 

He jumped to another tree, then fell through it straight into a spider web. 

“Crab apples.” 

As he fell, he held the flower against his chest, which left his right arm free from the web. He carefully laid the flower on his stomach, then took his sword in his right hand, switching it back to his left after it was free. 

Neville spotted the owner of the web crawling towards him and started cutting faster. 

When the web came loose, he withdrew his sword and grabbed the web, swinging to another tree. He drew his sword and slashed the remainder of the web, then jumped ahead into the trees. 

“They won’t follow me forever,” he said. He glanced down and saw a centaur patrol. “Actually, they won’t follow me at all.” 

He’d learned a lot about the Forbidden Forest and its inhabitants during his time there. One of the first rules of the forest was “Stay out of centaur territory.” The only creatures they didn’t shoot on sight were unicorns, but only the most foul creatures harmed a unicorn. 

He climbed above the trees, allowing the flower to soak in the rain while he surveyed his position. 

“Looks like the camp’s not far from here, so I’ll need to go around that,” Neville said. He glanced back and saw the acromantulas retreating. 

Neville ducked down into the treetops, drawing the attention of the centaur patrol. 

“Just passing through!” he shouted, drawing his sword. 

He swung it around, deflecting the arrows they fired at him. Neville continued on his way, using the treetops for cover. With the flower in one hand, he had to alternate between fighting and moving with the other, but it wasn’t long before he worked out a rhythm of fighting then moving. 

Neville walked out of the Forbidden Forest as the sun was rising, and, as always, found Rose waiting for him. 

“A little slow today,” she said. “But no injuries. You’re getting good at this.” 

“Aragog says ‘Hi’,” Neville said. 

Rose’s face lit up, which Neville found odd, considering Aragog’s obvious dislike of Rose. 

“I haven’t seen him in a while. How is Aragog?” 

“Still afraid of snakes,” Neville replied. “And you, apparently. Wanna fill me in?” 

“Not today, but another time,” Rose said as they started towards the castle. She nodded at his arm. “What’ve you got?” 

“Right,” Neville said. He uncurled his arm, exposing the flower to the rising sun. 

The moment the light touched it, the flower bloomed, shining deep crimson in the sunlight. 

“It’s called a crimson storm,” Neville said, handing Rose the rose. “It can only bloom in the rain, and may die without it. If you pick it in the rain, and expose it to the sunlight in the same rain, it stays like that forever.” 

“That’s beautiful,” Rose said. “You got this for me?” 

“Yeah,” Neville said. “Do you like it?” 

“It’s a rose called ‘crimson storm’ that glows crimson,” Rose said. “Of course I love it!” 

She pulled Neville into a hug, picking him up and nearly crushing him in the process. 

“I’m glad,” Neville choked out as he attempted to return the hug. 

Rose put him down after a moment, then tucked the flower in her hair. With her hair’s natural crimson accented by the rose, and a huge grin on her face, she skipped alongside Neville as they walked together back to the castle. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had breakfast,” Neville said. 

“Get used to it. You’re about done with survival training,” Rose said. 

“What comes after that?” Neville asked. 

“I don’t know yet. Probably combat training.” 

“Is there a lot of fighting in the tournament?” Neville asked, hoping to get some clue about the upcoming task. 

“You know I’m not allowed to tell you that,” Rose said. 

Neville’s face grew hot, despite the frigid rain beating down on it. 

“Sorry I asked,” he said. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Neville spent every one of them beating himself up about trying to get information about the tournament from Rose. 

_Now she’s mad at me,_ he thought. _That was so stupid! You’re such an idiot, Stinkbottom!_

“Beating yourself up’s one thing,” Rose said, “but don’t call yourself that. Those badges are stupid.” 

Neville jolted out of his thoughts. 

“W-what?” 

“Ref said you just called yourself ‘Stinkbottom’. Those badges calling you that that half the school wears are stupid, and you shouldn’t be… Ref, what was that word… validating them.” 

Rose patted herself on the head, but stopped skipping and started walking normally. 

“It does too count!” Rose exclaimed, glaring down at Reflectesalon. She jumped then turned back to Neville. “Anyway, don’t call yourself that. You didn’t ask for this, and come Thursday, everyone will know.” 

“I hope so,” Neville muttered. 

“Trust me, they will,” Rose said. 

Neville nodded. 

“The acromantulas gave me an idea. I saw them swinging around and thought I could do that with my sword and a rope or something.” 

“You should look into that,” Rose replied. “It’s good.” 

“Thanks,” Neville said. “F-for everything, really.” 

“You always say that,” Rose said. “You’re a lot better off than I was. If you just get sword magic, you’ll do great!” 

“I don’t think I can,” Neville said. “I keep trying, but I can’t use the spells Hermione makes.” 

“Of course you can! Brain makes them special for you!” 

“Alright,” Neville conceded. “It’s no use arguing with you, is it?” 

“Nope!” 

* * *

Neville paced back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement Saturday morning, as per Rose’s instructions. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but if it was like Friday night, he’d find Taltria and Alavel waiting for him inside. 

He knew Rose knew what she was doing, but he’d hardly seen her since his last excursion into the Forbidden Forest the previous morning. She was at meals, but it felt as if she were avoiding him. 

He slipped through the door when it appeared. Rose had given him the command for the room, so he wasn’t sure what to expect, but he found a layer of fog inside the room. It was dark and quiet, which gave Neville a bad feeling. 

He drew the Sword of Gryffindor and hunched down, ready for something to jump out of the fog and attack him. Stepping lightly, he made his way further into the room. 

Rose had a habit of not telling him what his objective was, so it didn’t bother him that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He figured that there was something waiting for him inside the fog, and he needed to kill or incapacitate it. Fighting was more Rose’s style than negotiating, but he kept his mind open in case she tried to throw him off balance. 

Neville heard someone whisper from inside the fog, and a jet of flame shot out towards him. He swung his sword in a tight circle, counting on the magic-repellent herbs he’d rubbed into the sword to block it. 

The fire singed him, but it wasn’t bad enough that it needed his attention. Instead, he listened to light footsteps around the room, likely the source of the fire. It didn’t sound like normal footsteps; they were spaced too far apart for that. 

The footsteps stopped, and Neville heard someone whispering on the other side of the room. Neville spun around just as a red bolt streaked through the fog. He deflected the spell with his sword, just as he had the first one. 

No sooner had he finished with the red bolt than a volley of fire balls flew through the air at him. 

Neville dove to the side and started running, using the sword to deflect any strays that neared him. Another red bolt shot out, but he deflected it with his sword. He ran in an arc towards the source of the fire, staying low, diving away from any spells he saw. As he neared the source of the fire, he readied his sword for the final blow, but when he struck, he only hit air. 

Another volley of fire came his way from his left. He felt the heat as he dove aside, scrambling to his feet before another spell could find him. 

An unseen force knocked Neville off his feet, and he heard normal footsteps retreating from him. 

Neville tumbled through the air, deflecting another red bolt sent his way. 

_Three distinct combatants,_ he reasoned. _One uses fire, another uses stunners, and…_

A volley of fire distracted him, but he blocked with just as much ease as the last several. 

_Hold on,_ Neville thought. _That’s Ginny and Harry. Why are Firecracker and Scarface attacking me?_

Ginny sent another round of fire at him, and Harry followed up with another stunner. Ginny’s footsteps sounded through the fog, just like last time. 

_Cohort must be moving them around._

Harry threw another stunner at him, but he tried to deflect it back towards Ginny’s last location. It went wide, and he heard more footsteps. 

_Remember, Toad,_ Rose’s voice said. _Spells are faster than arrows._

_I’ll remember that,_ Neville thought. _How can they see me?_

He put some distance between himself and the others. Harry had _blindsight_ out to 30 feet, so putting distance between himself and Harry might neutralize him. 

Neville rolled out of the way of another blast of flame from Ginny. 

_Who else is in on this?_

If Hermione or Luna were involved, there was no way he’d get out of range. Either of them would devise a solution that he’d never see coming. 

He felt around him for runes on the ground. He didn’t feel anything, but that didn’t mean there was nothing to find. After a moment, he gave up and started running again, but only made it five feet before running into a wall that only covered a few feet. 

_There’s Princess,_ he thought. 

He heard whispering from all around him. The voices weren’t saying anything distinct, but he figured they weren’t supposed to. 

Ginny and Harry each started unloading spells at him. Neville ran through the fog, unable to track either of them from their voices anymore. Using his sword as a walking cane, he avoided more of Sally-Anne’s walls, but there was no way to avoid Ron’s manipulation spells. The only thing he could do was to keep moving. Something had to be creating the voices, and he vaguely remembered Professor Flitwick saying that sound couldn’t easily be thrown with magic. 

_Means they’ve probably got runes making that sound,_ he thought. _Runes need power, right?_

Neville thought back to what he’d learned about runes over the past few weeks. 

_They need to stay exposed, and the sounds must be coming from them,_ he reasoned. _How much time did they have to set all this up?_

He ran towards the source of the whispering, nearly running into a wall. He just reached it when Ron threw him back. 

_Must be getting close,_ he thought as he dove away from another attack. 

_They aren’t going all out, which means the runes must be at risk,_ he thought. _Not just the whispering, but the fog. If I make Ginny angry, she’ll deal with them for me._

_No,_ he argued. _Winning’s not worth it. Not Ginny._

Neville dodged attack after attack, using the Sword of Gryffindor to keep the damage he took to a minimum. He was starting to wear down when he realized two things: 1. Ginny hadn’t let up for nearly a minute, and 2. More importantly, Ginny hadn’t _moved_ in nearly a minute. 

Neville rushed her, keeping the others off him with his sword. He dodged around Sally-Anne’s shields, which meant she had no energy to sustain them, and his constant motion made it harder for Harry to hit him. 

To his surprise, Ginny didn’t move away as he rushed her; she ran _towards_ him. 

When he reached her, he dodged under her fire and knocked her legs out from under her with the flat of his blade. In one fluid motion, he brought his fist down where Ginny had been a second earlier. 

His fist hit stone, and Ginny screamed as she was pulled back by Ron. 

She climbed to her feet in seconds, then screamed her next spell. 

“ _Confringo!_ ” 

_Crab Apples!_

Neville dove to the ground and clapped his hands over his ears as the air above him exploded. He was on his feet before the smoke cleared, along with part of the fog. 

Ginny hurled another fireball at him, but he avoided it and nicked her with the sword. She tried again, but he dodged to her right and cut her right arm. 

He dodged aside a hastily thrown fireball, then hit her in the side of her head with the flat of his blade. He swung his sword, but Sally-Anne blocked with another of her shields as Ron pulled his sister back. 

Harry threw a stunner at him from his left, but Neville ducked under it. 

_One down, three to go,_ he thought. _If I can take out Ron, Harry should be easy._

He charged in the direction Ron pulled Ginny, then lept into the air once he reached the fog. He collided with someone, confirmed to be Ron by the sound he made. 

_I’m really glad that worked,_ he thought as he nailed Ron with the flat of his blade. 

Neville sidestepped another stunner, then ran in an arc towards Harry. 

_Scarface fights using stealth. That means he’ll have his invisibility cloak for good measure, keep me exactly 30 feet away, and walk quietly._

When he reached the wall, he slashed through it with his sword. After a few more slashes, the surrounding fog cleared away, and he spotted another cluster of runes. Taking out the cluster stopped part of the whispering. 

“Scarface, Princess, I know you’re still out there,” Neville called. “Princess, you’re getting tired, and Scarface, you can’t hold me off forever. Cohort and Firecracker can’t run interference anymore, so it’s only a matter of time before I clear away the fog. You can’t beat me head-on. I’m offering you a chance to surrender.” 

He stood ready for another attack, listening for Harry and Sally-Anne, but nothing happened. 

“We surrender!” Sally-Anne called. “Luna, kill the fog!” 

The whispers stopped as the fog cleared out. As it did, Neville saw Harry standing about 20 feet from him, and Sally-Anne not much farther than that. Ron and Ginny were on the ground, and Luna and Tutela were based in one of the far corners. Rune clusters were scattered around the room, and all had lines that led back to Luna. 

“Well done, Neville,” Sally-Anne said as she checked on Ron and Ginny. “Rose said you’d improved, but I’m impressed.” 

“What gave us away?” Harry asked. 

“You and Ginny kept doing the same thing,” Neville said. “That was a clue, but when Ron threw a Repulsion Charm, it all made sense.” 

“That’s what Ron said when you started running away,” Sally-Anne said. “He figured you were getting out of Harry’s range, so he said I could go on the offensive.” 

“What happened?” Ron asked as he regained consciousness. “Did we win?” 

“No, Ron,” Sally-Anne said, collapsing on the ground. “How could we without our master strategist?” 

“Of course,” he said, rubbing his head. “We would’ve won, if _someone_ hadn’t gone rogue!” 

“She’s still coming to,” Sally-Anne said. “Besides, it’s not entirely Ginny’s fault. Neville’s just a lot better than we are now.” 

“Figures,” Ron muttered. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I’ve woken up in the Forbidden Forest for the past few weeks,” Neville said. “Rose pushes me hard.” 

“How’d you block Harry’s spells?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“There’s a plant that repels magic,” Neville said. “I rubbed some of the oil on the Sword of Gryffindor, so now it does too.” 

“Ah!” Ginny shouted when she woke up. She looked around, then grabbed her arm. “What’d you do?” 

“Damaged the muscle in your arm so it’s harder to move it,” Neville said. “Can I take a look at it to make sure it’s alright?” 

“I’m fine!” Ginny grunted, still clutching her arm. 

“Why’d you ignore the plan?” Ron snapped. “We had him!” 

“Those blasts weren’t doing anything!” Ginny shot back. “That explosion was the closest we got to hitting him!” 

“Actually, you–” Neville started. 

“It took out the fog runes!” Ron shouted. “And it let him see where I was!” 

“It shouldn’t–” Luna started. 

“Because of you, _Ginevra_ , we were _both_ taken out!” 

“Because of me?! Who was the one that tipped him off that it was us?!” 

“Really, it’s–” Neville tried again. 

“Fine! Next time, I’ll let him hit you!” 

Ginny lifted her right arm, but winced and grabbed it. 

“You wanna fight?” Ron asked, raising his own wand. 

“I–” 

They were both cut off by a screeching noise emanating from every wall. Everyone covered their ears until the sound died down. 

“Sorry about that, but it was awfully noisy in here,” Luna said, her wand held against one of the lines that connected the rune clusters. 

“Agreed,” Sally-Anne said. “I think we could all use a break.” 

“Fine,” Ginny said. Still holding her arm, she stormed out of the room. 

“I’ll go after her,” Neville said. “I’ve fixed my own wounds plenty of times, and I’m not comfortable with her leaving her arm like that.” 

Neville raced out of the Room of Requirement and looked around. He saw Ginny not far down the corridor. 

“Ginny!” 

“I’m fine!” 

He sprinted after her, but she ran to get away from him. 

He caught up to her before she reached the end of the corridor and grabbed her good shoulder. 

“Stop it!” Ginny snapped. “Let go of me!” 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Neville said. 

“I don’t need your help!” 

Neville grabbed both her shoulders and held tight to her. 

“Let me go!” she shouted. 

“It’s just me,” he said. 

“I know it’s you! Go away!” 

Neville had never seen Ginny so angry. She was always nice to him, so what was different? 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing! I don’t need anyone’s help!” 

Neville thought fast. What would Rose do? That was no good; Rose would hold Ginny down and force her to cooperate. 

What about Sally-Anne? She was great with people. What would she do? 

“I don’t want to help you, I want you to help me!” 

“What?” 

Ginny didn’t stop struggling, but she eased up. 

“Of course you don’t need my help. You’re Ginny Weasley. You’re tough enough that you could probably live with your arm like that, but I’m soft. I can’t stand to see it like that knowing that I did it.” 

Ginny stopped struggling, but didn’t stop glaring at him. 

“What?” 

“I… I don’t want anyone to see that I hurt you,” Neville said. “That’s all.” 

“It’s not because I’m a girl?” 

“Of course not! I’d do the same if it were Ron.” 

“He’d probably whine about it the whole time,” Ginny said, smirking. 

Neville smiled, even though he thought Ginny whined just as much as Ron. 

“Let me see,” he said, holding her arm. He inspected the wound on her arm. 

“Ow!” 

“Sorry, it’s going to hurt a little,” Neville said. He took a vial out of a pocket on his belt. 

“What’s that?” Ginny asked. 

“Just some cream for cuts,” Neville said. “Extracted from the Jabberwood plant that grows wild in the Forbidden Forest. I’ve done this tons of times.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure,” Neville said, rubbing the cream on her cut. “It doesn’t fix much, but it makes it go faster. Last week, I had a run in with the centaurs again. Had to hide while I applied this to my arrow wounds. That’s when I learned how to block projectiles like that.” 

“I guess that was alright,” Ginny said. 

Neville deposited the vial back in its pocket and took out some bandages. 

“Where do you keep all these?” 

“The house-elves made me a belt with a bunch of pockets,” Neville said. “I think Rose asked them to.” 

“Why didn’t she just do it?” Ginny asked, wincing as Neville tightened the bandage. 

“She doesn’t spend a lot of time with me,” Neville said. “Princess says she’s just trying to keep her distance or something. Something about keeping a good image?” 

“What?” 

“It didn’t make sense to me either.” He finished applying the bandage. “There. That should heal by curfew.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” Ginny said. “How’d you know about that plant?” 

“I’m good at Herbology, I guess,” Neville replied. “It’s so much easier than magic, and it’s brilliant to look out into the Forbidden Forest and know that everything is so different. Every plant’s got its own name, its own purpose, and they all fit together.” 

“I know who I’m asking next time I need help with it,” Ginny said. “Not that I ever need help. If Ron can get it, so can I.” 

Neville was concerned for his friend, but hid it with a smile. He didn’t want to say anything and risk angering her again. 

“Did you get hurt too bad?” Ginny asked. “Back in the room, I mean.” 

Neville looked down at his scorched clothes. 

“I’m fine,” Neville said. “You almost had me with that explosion.” 

“I knew it!” Ginny shouted. “Take that, Ron!” 

Neville looked at his friend. She was so confident, so sure of herself. Ginny was determined to make her own way, even if she got roughed up now and then, and she didn’t care what anyone thought. 

_I wish I could be like her._

“Are you alright?” Neville asked. 

“I’m always alright!” Ginny exclaimed. She glanced at her arm. “Thanks, I guess.” 

“It was nothing,” Neville said. 

He stumbled as he put away the bandages. 

“Toad?” 

“I’m gonna sit down for a moment,” Neville said. He eased himself onto the stone floor. “I guess you wore me out more than I thought.” 

Ginny sat down next to him. 

“Of course I did,” Ginny said. “You’re only a boy.” 

Neville and Ginny laughed, and for the first time in almost three weeks, he started to think he stood a chance in the Triwizard Tournament. 


	10. Orb in the Arena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first task happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** This chapter contains less content owned by J.K. Rowling than usual.

Classes ended early on the day of the first task. Neville was glad for it. He couldn’t focus during Divination or Transfiguration, making it even harder to do the work than usual. He could hear people whispering, and every so often, one of the Hufflepuffs would snicker. A final glare from Professor McGonagall silenced them all just before the end of class. 

“Mr. Longbottom, please meet me back here at 12:30 sharp,” Professor McGonagall said as he was leaving. “I’ll take you to where the champions are meeting for the first task.” 

Neville nodded to her, his mouth too dry to form words. 

“How’re you feeling?” Sally-Anne asked on their way out of class. 

“Horrible,” he croaked. 

“Everything’s going to be alright,” she said soothingly. “In a few hours, it will all be over, and we can all relax. Just focus on that.” 

Neville forced a smile, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the first task. He had no idea what it was; no one did. 

“You’re better than all of us put together,” Hermione said. “And you’ve had Rose preparing you for weeks. Worse case scenario, she pulls you out before you die. She can fix anything short of that.” 

That cheered Neville up enough to get him through the next hour. His friends spent it talking, although he couldn’t pay much attention. He just sat and stared into space as Sally-Anne, Hermione, and Ron talked. They didn’t realize it was time to go until Harry returned from Arithmancy. 

His friends wished him good luck, then he made his way back to Professor McGonagall’s classroom. Fifth-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were just leaving as he entered, which meant he had to endure a barrage of glares from the Hufflepuffs. He understood perfectly that the good things he’d done didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he’d helped them escape during the quake, nor that he’d nearly died saving Professor Sprout. All that mattered was that his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. 

“Are you ready?” Professor McGonagall asked as they left her classroom. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Of course. If it makes you feel any better, Mr. Longbottom, I don’t know what the task is either.” 

“I guess.” 

“Professor Dumbledore was adamant about no one knowing what it is, so you are likely just as prepared as the other champions.” 

“Still a fourth-year.” 

“That may be, but there are precautions in place if problems arise.” 

They walked in silence down five floors before encountering Professor Sprout. Neville tried smiling, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to be sick. 

“There you are,” she said. “I was hoping I’d find you before the task. I wanted to wish you good luck today.” 

“Thanks,” Neville said, giving a weak smile. 

“I also haven’t gotten the chance to ask you if you got my letter over the summer.” 

“I did,” Neville said. 

“Did you try the oil?” 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t work long. I asked Hermione, and she thinks the goblin magic rejects the oil because it alters the metal.” 

“That makes sense,” Professor McGonagall said. “Given that the sword Peta-Lorrum stole is goblin magic, which rejects anything that could damage the blade.” 

“Don’t start on that again,” Professor Sprout said. “Albus gave him permission to keep it as a reward for helping with the quake last year.” 

Neville smiled at the first real positive reinforcement he’d received. 

“Well, this is where we part ways,” Professor Sprout said when they reached the front gate. “Good luck, Neville. Even though Cedric is one of mine and I’ll be rooting for him, I’ll cheer just as loudly for you. I’ve watched you every day these past few weeks, and whatever it is that Rose won’t tell us about, it’s working.” 

Neville gave another smile, but this one felt more genuine than the others. 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

“It’s been my pleasure, Neville.” 

After a nod to McGonagall, Sprout followed the growing crowd of people going towards a large stadium that Neville hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t far from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, so he was certain it wasn’t there a week ago. It also wasn’t where he and Professor McGonagall were going. She led him to a small tent attached to the stadium, outside of which stood Taltria and Alavel. 

“Go on inside. There will be someone there to explain the rules and what you do. Madame Pomfrey should also be there on stand by, so there’s no need to worry.” 

“Thank you.” 

He walked up to the tent, feeling better than he had when he’d met Professor McGonagall in her classroom. The Nimblewrights stopped him when he approached. 

“Let him in,” a comforting Scottish voice said. 

Without saying a word, the Nimblewrights allowed him to pass into the tent. Inside, he found the other three champions: Fleur shot him a look of disgust, Krum didn’t show any expression, and Cedric narrowed his eyes at Neville. Rose stood at the far end of the tent, quietly rocking back and forth on her feet. She paid them no attention, apart from apparently granting them access to the tent. 

“Welcome, everyone, to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!” Bagman announced from outside the tent. 

“That’s my cue,” Rose said. She motioned to the four champions. “Gather round, you lot!” 

Neville looked at the other three, but no one moved. 

“That means everyone!” Rose barked. “Now!” 

After the four of them had gathered, Rose continued. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. Behind this door, there’s–” 

“Vaht door?” Fleur demanded. 

Rose waved her hand through the wall, revealing it to be an illusion. 

“This door,” she replied. “Behind it, there’s an arena. You must fetch the orb in the middle of the arena and return it here to the tent. If you are unable, you will receive a score of zero for the event. More points are good, so try your best.” She paused, then added, “Oh! And try not to die.” After another pause, she said, “Oh! One more thing. Each of you are only allowed to take one tool with you onto the field. That includes your wand.” 

“Vy vould ve take anything else?” Fleur asked. 

Rose shrugged. “I dunno, but you’ve got the option if you’d like to take it.” She pointed at Fleur. “Delacour, you’re up first. When you hear Bagman call your name, step through the door. Diggory, you’re up next, then Krum, then Longbottom. When you step through, your chosen item should be in hand. Present it to me, then pass. Any questions?” 

“Why are you telling us all this?” Cedric asked, showing Rose just as much disdain as he did Neville. 

“Because Bagman’s out there,” Rose replied, turning to Madame Pomfrey. “Madame Pomfrey, ready?” 

Neville glanced over to Madame Pomfrey, who nodded to Rose. She had an entire wall of the tent to herself, where she’d set up four tables. 

“And now, our first champion!” 

“What are you taking?” Rose asked. 

“Vy–” 

“Answer, or I hurl you through the other door. What are you taking?” 

Fleur reached into her pocket and drew her wand. Rose stepped aside to allow Fleur to enter the arena. 

“Ms. Fleur Delacour!” 

With all the confidence in the world, Fleur stepped through the door and out of sight. 

“What’s out there?” Neville asked Rose. 

“An orb,” Rose replied. “Why would I tell you now?” 

Neville blushed and berated himself for trying again. 

“You haven’t told him already?” Cedric scoffed. 

“No, Diggory, I haven’t,” Rose replied with just as much hostility. 

The ensuing silence gave Neville a moment to think about the task. It was just a fetch quest. The orb was no doubt guarded, trapped, or both. What was out there? Neville looked past Rose, not trying to see out of the tent, but just wondering what it was. Perhaps they’d rethought the tournament, and it was no longer life-threatening. Maybe the orb was guarded by some puzzle they had to solve, and they weren’t told what it was ahead of time so they couldn’t solve it beforehand. 

The thought of it relaxed Neville. It wasn’t dangerous at all, just challenging. Madame Pomfrey was just there to throw them off and make them think it was dangerous. Like Rose had said, it was just about thinking on his feet. 

His hopes were crushed a minute later when Fleur returned to the tent. Burns and bruises covered most of her body, and her left arm hung limply at her side. She carried a blue orb under her good arm, and walked straight over to Madame Pomfrey. 

“Diggory, what are you taking?” Rose asked. 

“My wand,” Cedric said, holding his wand up to Rose. 

“Next up is our Hogwarts champion himself, Cedric Diggory!” 

Cedric glanced at Fleur, then stepped out of the tent. 

Neville looked at Fleur and Madame Pomfrey, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

“I put _doublespeak_ around her,” Rose said. “Madame Pomfrey was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to get anything meaningful out of people if they were worried about secrecy.” She smiled at Neville. “Don’t look so scared. She didn’t know what was coming either, and she’s fine.” 

“She’s a seventh-year and I’m a fourth-year,” Neville said. “It’s different.” 

“Then you shouldn’t put name in Goblet of Fire,” Krum said, coming up behind them. 

“Would it make a difference if I said I didn’t?” Neville asked. 

“I don’t know what I should be believing,” Krum said. He looked Neville up and down. “All I know is what I am seeing, and what other people say.” 

Neville didn’t need to ask what other people said about him. Worthless, pathetic, loser. He’d heard them hundreds of times in the past few weeks alone. 

“Some people think cheaters are hard to spot, but they make it easy. Cheater gets on broom, I see he cheating. You don’t look like cheater.” 

“Thank you?” Neville said. 

“If you are not cheater, why was name in goblet?” Krum asked. 

Neville shrugged. “I wish I knew. Professor Moody thinks someone’s trying to kill me.” 

“I remember.” He looked at Neville again, then assessed Rose. “You look… odd.” 

“I get that a lot,” Rose said. She frowned, then spun around in place. After staring in the direction of the arena for a moment, she slowly turned back to Neville and Krum. 

“Something wrong?” Neville asked. 

“Thought we had a situation,” Rose replied. “Diggory’s on his way in. Krum, what’re you taking?” 

“I will take wand like sane person,” Krum said as Cedric walked into the tent. 

Unlike Fleur, Cedric had nearly full use of his limbs, although his legs were banged up. He limped over to Madame Pomfrey, trying not to put too much weight on either leg for long. 

“Are you alright?” Neville asked. 

“Could use some help,” Cedric replied. 

Neville put Cedric’s arm over his shoulders and helped him over to Madame Pomfrey’s table. 

“Now it’s time for the Durmstrang Champion, Viktor Krum!” Bagman called from outside. 

“Good luck, Krum,” Neville called. 

Krum nodded and walked out of the tent. Neville returned to Rose’s side, although his attention remained on Madame Pomfrey’s patients. 

“Rose, you mentioned something about scores,” Neville said. 

“After each champion has finished, they’ll reveal the scores. Each of the four judges already submit their scores after the champion is finished, but they figured it’d be easier to do them all at the end, since the task isn’t finished until the champion is back here.” 

“But if you can’t complete the task, you get a zero?” 

“Oh good, you were paying attention.” 

“I always pay attention.” 

“Good,” Rose said. “Then you can watch the others and remember that the whole point of this tournament was to encourage inter-school cooperation. It was supposed to bring us all together, but now everyone’s so obsessed with winning the tournament they can’t get along.” 

“Krum seems nice,” Neville said. 

“Think about the past month. Even Hogwarts doesn’t like us.” 

“Like you said, they’ll stop after today.” 

“Maybe,” Rose replied. “I don’t know, but I’m still trying to figure out who put your name in.” 

“Does it matter anymore?” 

“Security was my responsibility, so yeah, it matters to me. If nothing else, I want to know what I missed.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I had it covered from every possible angle,” Rose said. “I can list the names of everyone who got within five feet of the goblet.” 

“You’ll figure it out.” Neville smiled at Rose. “You’re the best.” 

Rose smiled back at him. 

“Thanks, Toad.” She closed her eyes and scrunched her face. “Longbottom. Supposed to call you Longbottom around the other champions.” 

“Why?” 

“Same reason I got Brain to send you a compass and watch. Same reason I got the house-elves to make you a belt. I’m not supposed to be around you, otherwise it looks like we’re in on this together.” 

“But we’re not.” 

“You think they care?” Rose asked, nodding to the other two champions in the tent. 

Neville glanced at them. Cedric looked relieved that the task was over for him, while Fleur just looked bitter. Would they stop blaming him for what happened? 

“What happens if I do better than them?” he asked. 

“You’re about to find out. Krum’s finished.” Rose extended her arm to him. “Pack and belt. Neither are allowed.” 

Neville slipped off his pack and handed it to Rose, then did the same with his belt. 

“What about my watch?” 

“If you want it to work later, I’d suggest leaving it behind.” 

Neville dropped his watch in his pack, then drew the Sword of Gryffindor. 

“I’m taking the Sword of Gryffindor in place of my wand.” 

Krum entered the tent, looking worse than both Fleur and Cedric, but unlike either of them, he didn’t seem aware that he was injured. Even with burns all over his skin, and half of his face black with what Neville thought was soot, Krum walked tall as he went to Madame Pomfrey. 

Seconds after he stepped inside the tent, the curtain vanished, and Neville could see the arena clearly. 

“Now for our final champion, Neville Longbottom!” 

Neville took a deep breath, then left the tent. The crowd went quiet as Neville walked onto the field. There was no applause as there had been for the other champions, but instead a handful of “boos”. 

“You’re seeing that correctly folks!” Bagman announced. “Instead of his wand, Longbottom has chosen to take a sword into the arena.” He paused for a moment, then added, “To his credit, that _is_ the one and only Sword of Gryffindor!” 

Neville hid the sword, embarrassed that he’d done something different. 

_Focus, Toad,_ Rose’s voice ordered, which Neville obeyed. 

The arena wasn’t anything special. It was mostly stone, with the crests of each school engraved in the center around a giant “T”. A blue orb sat in the exact center of the insignia. 

_It can’t be that easy,_ Neville thought, remembering how each champion had looked upon entering the tent. Still, without any other option, Neville approached the orb. 

The moment he stepped inside the insignia of the three schools, the blue orb turned red, and the field came to life. 

Red cracks bled out from the orb and slithered towards the outside of the insignia. They branched out around the crests, reaching past Neville, as the orb left the ground, followed not long after by the chunks of stone formed by the cracks. 

As everything took to the air, it all spiraled and whirled around the orb. Even the platform beneath him flew around the orb, nearly throwing him off balance. 

Neville stared at the flurry in disbelief. He couldn’t begin to think about how to tackle the problem in front of him. Even if he had his wand, he couldn’t do anything against the storm of boulders. Anything thrown into it would be thrown off by the boulders before it got within 20 feet of the orb. 

Neville nearly fell off the platform upon which he stood when it lurched and changed direction. He struggled back to his feet, then saw something flying out of the storm at him. 

Instinct kicked in, and he flicked the sword up, catching the bolt of lightning before it hit him. 

“You all just saw that correctly, folks!” Bagman called. “I don’t believe it either, but Neville Longbottom just blocked a bolt of lightning with a sword!” 

_Why didn’t it deflect?_ Neville wondered. _It’s magic, isn’t it?_

He looked at the blood-red orb in the middle of the storm, but instead of coming up with another solution, he thought back to the crimson storm he’d found in the Forbidden Forest. 

_The only thing I’ve got that can get through that is me,_ he thought. He uncoiled a wiry vine from the hilt of the sword, and tied one end around his wrist. _It’s just like branch hopping, just with… moving branches. I can do this. I’ve done it hundreds of times._

Without another thought, Neville lept into the vortex of rock. He grabbed onto a stone, then fell onto another as it flew past. He jumped from rock to rock, staying focused on the orb. 

“It looks like the boy’s going straight for the orb!” Bagman called. 

He watched for traps around the orb, but it wasn’t until he was within two feet of it that he found one. 

Neville made a dive for the orb, but as he got close, he slowed down, then something hurled him away from it. 

“So close! Looks like he’s–” 

As the force field threw him back, he dug the sword into a rock and allowed the vine to stretch. He swung through the air, landing on another of the flying boulders. 

Neville gave the vine a hard tug, pulling the sword loose from its resting place just as another rock flew towards his. 

He dodged aside the rock, then pulled the sword back to his hand. He clung to his rock until it was upside down, then allowed himself to fall. 

Neville landed on another rock, leaping off it the moment he landed. Once on his new rock, he looked over the field, getting his bearings as he jumped between the boulders. 

_Can’t just jump into it. What do I do?_

His eyes darted around the flurry of boulders, just as they’d done on his many retreats from the centaurs. He jumped onto another rock, only to find a flame geyser heading for him. He threw his sword at another rock and swung out of the way. 

_That’s it!_

“We all thought he was mad to leave his wand, but I think I speak for all of us when I say this: He’s not half bad with that sword!” 

Neville landed on another boulder, then lept across more to reach the top of the storm. He blocked lightning bolts on his way, and discovered a few acid traps, but he reached the top in moments. He hopped between rocks, always staying at the top, waiting for the right moment. 

“I don’t know what he’s doing, but it might be hopscotch!” 

_That’s exactly what I’m doing,_ Neville thought as he stabbed the sword into another stone. _I hope this works!_

As the sword went one way, he dove into the heart of the storm. He landed on another boulder not far from the orb, then kicked off towards his target. He pressed his arms to his side, increasing his momentum as he fell towards the orb. Just as Neville felt himself being pushed away from the orb, the vine tugged on his arm and drew him closer. 

“I can’t believe it!” Bagman exclaimed. “He might have it!” 

Neville reached out his right arm as his left was pulled towards the sword, and thus the orb. As his fingertips grazed the orb, his arm was yanked away by the sword. 

“Ah!” 

“Oh! That must’ve hurt!” Bagman exclaimed a little more cheerfully than Neville would’ve liked. 

“ _Grahk d’ka!_ ” shouted someone that sounded an awful lot like Ginny. 

The rock hurled Neville into a passing stone, ripping the vine free of his wrist. As it did, Neville heard a distinct pop. 

_I know that sound._

He grabbed onto another boulder with his right arm, then lept onto one of the slabs outside of the whirling storm of death. Once he landed, he climbed to his feet, watching for anything that might leap out at him, then began to inspect his shoulder. Staying low to the ground to keep his balance, he prodded his shoulder, wincing as he found the injury. 

“Yup,” he muttered. “That’s dislocated. Definitely dislocated.” 

“I don’t know what he’s doing, but by the looks of things, I’d say he’s dislocated his arm!” Bagman announced. 

“Thanks, Bagman, I had no idea,” Neville muttered. “I’ve done this loads of times before, so it shouldn’t be so bad.” He took hold of his arm. “One… Two… Three!” 

The audience gasped as he forced his arm back into place. Neville grit his teeth as he moved his arm around, testing its new capabilities. 

“Still working.” He hunted down the sword with his eyes, grinning when he found it. “Now to get my sword back.” 

He took a few steps back, then lept back into the whirling vortex of pain. 

For the first time since he’d stepped into the field, the audience applauded. 

Neville lept between the rocks again, then dove at the vine when he drew close. He caught it, slipped it back over his wrist, then pulled the sword free. 

“He’s back! After resetting his own arm, Neville Longbottom is back in the game!” 

Neville dove aside as a bolt of acid flew his way. 

“Why’d it have to be acid?” Neville muttered, looking towards the top of the storm. “Hold on, acid, fire, and electricity. Where have I heard that before?” 

He dug the sword into a rock and let it carry him up to the top. It wasn’t until he reached the top that the rock began to glow orange. 

“Crab apples!” 

Neville pulled the sword out and held it between himself and the flame geyser just as it erupted. 

The crowd gasped as the geyser singed his clothes, but he held most of the blast back with the Sword of Gryffindor. The geyser propelled him across the field, unfortunately missing the orb, but Neville stabbed the sword into another rock and hung on to the vine. 

It stretched, then whiplashed him back into the storm, on a direct course for the orb. 

Neville’s hand was just out of reach from the orb when the field pushed him away. As he reached the edge of the force field, he grabbed a hold of the vine with both hands and allowed it to pull him back to the orb. 

He was so focused on the orb that he didn’t see the flame geyser that burned through the vine until it was too late, but he didn’t care. What was left of the vine flung him at the orb. He opened his arms wide and grabbed it on his way past. 

“He’s done it!” Bagman shouted. “Ladies and gentlemen, Neville Longbottom has done it, all without so much as touching his wand!” 

Neville grabbed onto another boulder, then lept towards the sword. He nearly reached it when another boulder fell onto him. He lept back, then looked at the field. All around him, the storm was collapsing. He tried to escape, but another falling rock knocked him onto his back. He climbed to his feet in an attempt to escape, but with the falling rocks, he couldn’t get out in time. All he could do was grab the sword in one hand, and the orb in the other. He returned the sword to his glove and curled up around the orb. 

Rocks collapsed onto him as he reached the ground. Neville had one last thought before losing consciousness. 

_Not again!_

* * *

“He did it!” Ginny exclaimed as Neville grabbed the orb. 

She hugged Hermione, who was decidedly less enthusiastic than Ginny, only because it wasn’t possible to be more enthusiastic than Ginny. 

“Woo!” Ginny cried. “Way to go, Toad!” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more stressed out than I am right now,” Hermione said. 

“Sorry?” Sally-Anne asked, cupping her hand around her ear. “I can’t hear you over Ginny!” 

Even Ginny’s enthusiasm died when the field collapsed on top of Neville. They all watched helplessly as their friend was buried under rocks and rubble. 

“That’s right, it doesn’t reset until he returns the orb,” Hermione said, thinking back to the other three champions. She felt a sharp pain as Ginny squeezed her arm. 

“Toad,” Ginny breathed, her eyes wide with horror. She turned to Hermione. “Brain, what can we do? We–” 

“We can’t do anything,” Sally-Anne said. “He’s got to do this on his own.” 

“Believe in him,” Harry added. 

Ginny nodded, and squeezed Hermione’s arm tighter. 

“That was nice of you to say,” Sally-Anne whispered to Harry, not taking her eyes off the pile of rocks. 

“Rose said the same thing to me when you were poisoned,” Harry said. “It made me feel better. Not much, but… a little.” 

Harry glanced over at Rose, who stood at the entrance to the champion’s tent. Her face betrayed no emotion, but her gaze remained locked on the pile of rocks. Harry turned his own gaze to it, looking for any sign of movement. He tried training his ears, but all he heard was his own pounding heart and whispers from the audience. 

_If only I had…_

Harry pulled off his pack and grabbed his Omnioculars. He zoomed them in as far as he could on the rocks until it was as if they were right in front of him. 

“See anything?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Something,” Harry said. “It might just be some of the rocks shifting. I…” 

Something shifted around under the rocks. The rocks on top moved, just a little. 

“I see him,” Harry said. “He’s moving under there.” 

“Are you sure?” Ginny asked. 

Before Harry could answer, more rocks shifted around on top of the pile. 

The crowd cheered when they saw rocks fall and Neville slowly climb out of the pile of boulders. 

“Ha!” Ginny cried, nearly leaping out of her chair. “Woo!” 

“I think Ginny’s happy,” Harry said to Sally-Anne. 

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Sally-Anne replied, laughing as she applauded. 

Sally-Anne glanced over at Hermione, who looked morbid compared to the rest of them. 

“Hermione?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Now the hard part,” Hermione muttered. 

“He’s done it!” Ginny exclaimed. “Who cares?!” 

“He hasn’t done it yet,” Hermione said. “He’s got to return the orb to the tent, remember? You saw how hard it was for Cedric to get that far, and that when he was only grazed by the rocks when they fell.” 

Neville clung to the orb with his right arm as he shoved another piece of rock aside with his left. He tested each limb to see what worked. His right arm couldn’t move, his right leg was broken and couldn’t support his weight, his left arm hurt, but he could move it with little difficulty, and his left leg worked. 

_It’s always falling rocks, isn’t it?_ He looked to the tent. _Come on, Toad. Only a bit further. Just keep going._ He limped towards the tent where he saw Rose waiting for him. _Rose is counting on you._

He dragged himself towards the tent, forcing himself not to give up. Every inch of his body screamed in pain, and it took everything he had not to quit. 

_If I quit now, then Rose will give up on me._

Every step was agony as he dragged his useless leg along. For once, he was thankful for the quiet audience. 

_Five more steps,_ he told himself. _Five more steps, and I’m home free._

With two more steps to go, his left leg gave out. Neville collapsed mere feet from the tent. 

“Come on,” Rose whispered. “You’ve got this.” She held out her arms, still inside the tent. “I believe in you.” 

Neville reached out his arm, more determined than he’d ever been in his life. He dragged himself another foot, then tried to move his right arm. When it didn’t move, he took the orb in his left hand. With a buzzing in his ears and stars in his eyes, he reached out and thrust the orb into Rose’s waiting hands. 

Rose tossed the orb aside and hauled Neville to his feet. She supported him straight over to Madame Pomfrey as the crowd cheered. 

“Everyone stand by for the judges to finish up the last of the scores!” Bagman announced as Neville laid down on the table. 

“Reckless, foolish,” Madame Pomfrey said as she checked him over. “These games are pointless and mad.” 

“Well?” Rose asked. “Will he ever go waltzing again?” 

“I know how to poison you and make it look like natural causes, Peta-Lorrum.” 

“So does Professor Snape, but he’ll actually try it. Threats don’t work on me.” 

Madame Pomfrey growled something Neville couldn’t make out. 

“Your arms and legs are broken in 15 different places, you’ve got several cracked ribs, a punctured lung, and your leg gave out because some of the nerves are damaged. You’ve also got a concussion and fractured skull. I hope you’re happy with yourself. I’m not letting you out of the Hospital Wing for at least a week.” 

“Just like old times,” Neville said. 

“I’ll come visit you,” Rose said. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise!” 

“And you’re bleeding internally!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. “Wonderful!” She relaxed herself for a moment, then continued. “You’re not to leave this bed until I say so.” 

“So he won’t be able to go out with the others to learn his scores?” Rose asked. 

“No, he won’t!” Madame Pomfrey snapped. 

“Not even if someone supported him?” 

“I’ve stopped the bleeding, and he should be seeing straight now, but he shouldn’t be limping around!” 

“What if two people supported him?” Cedric asked, arising from his own examination table. 

“I take one side, he take other,” Krum said. 

“Like Rose said, it’s about cooperation,” Cedric said. “All four of us should be out there.” 

Rose and Madame Pomfrey exchanged glances, then the latter reexamined Neville’s right leg. 

“The nerves will take a while to heal, so good luck with that one, but your right can support you with help.” She glared at Krum and Cedric. “A lot of help.” 

“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Bagman announced. “Let’s have our four champions back out for the scores!” 

With Krum and Cedric on either side of him, Neville joined them in the arena for the announcement of the scores. 

“Let’s have another round of applause for our champions!” 

Neville looked out at the crowd as they applauded. They’d done it. _He’d_ done it. 

_I can’t wait to tell Mum and Dad about this,_ Neville thought. _They’ll be so proud._


	11. Adoring Fans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our characters are adored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** My adoration for J.K. Rowling prompts me to remind everyone that she owns Harry Potter.

“Come on!” Ginny exclaimed. “Let’s go to the Hospital Wing!” 

“What if Madame Pomfrey wants to treat him here?” Hermione asked. 

Ginny pouted at Hermione, looking for all the world like a little kid. 

“Come on,” Hermione said, continuing towards the castle. She exchanged glances with Sally-Anne, and the girls saw that they were both holding in a laugh. 

“What if he’s not there?” Ginny whined. “We should be going to the tent to see–” 

“He’s there, Ginny,” Sally-Anne said. “Hermione was only teasing you. Madame Pomfrey will want to treat him in the Hospital Wing.” 

“Why can’t Rose just fix him?” Ginny asked as they followed the procession of people. 

The same question had occurred to Hermione when she saw Neville in about the same condition coming out of the tent as he was going in. 

“Our visitors don’t know about her,” Hermione replied. “Professor Dumbledore probably asked her to lie low and not draw attention to herself.” 

“I’d have probably done the same after what happened last month,” Sally-Anne said. She turned to Ron, who’d been silent most of the afternoon. “So, Ron, still upset about not being allowed to enter?” 

Hermione eyed Ron as he thought about his answer, which, if nothing else, was a good sign. 

“I guess not,” Ron said. “You’d have to be mad to want to do this.” 

“I could’ve done it!” Ginny protested. “Just blow up all the rocks, then–” 

“Get thrown off the platform when it stops!” Ron said. 

“Like you’d do any better!” she shot back. 

“Maybe–” 

Sally-Anne grabbed both of them by the ear, silencing the siblings in an instant. 

“I’m under orders from your mother to keep both of you in line. If you don’t stop bickering right now, I’ll send you both to bed without supper.” 

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances this time. Neither one was sure if they should be frightened or amused by Sally-Anne. 

Sally-Anne released them, leaving them to massage their sore ears. 

“I thought _I_ was the responsible one,” Hermione said. 

“Only when it comes to Rose,” Sally-Anne replied. “I’ve got to deal with this lot year round.” 

“Better than sitting around at home all day,” Hermione muttered. 

“Rose doesn’t visit?” Harry asked. 

“Sometimes, but not a lot,” Hermione replied. “Why?” 

“We hardly ever see her,” Sally-Anne said. “We thought she was with you.” 

Hermione knew a bad sign when she saw one, especially when it came to Rose. If she wasn’t spending time with her or her friends, then she was up to something. 

“Maybe she’s with Neville all day,” Hermione suggested. 

“He hardly sees her either,” Ginny said. 

“That’s not good,” Hermione said. “When she disappears like that at my house, she’s working on something.” 

“So she’s making something,” Ron said. 

“She never crafts during the year,” Hermione replied. “She just has Inar do it for her.” 

“Who cares?!” Ginny exclaimed. “Look at this crowd! It’s gonna take forever to get to the Hospital Wing with all these people.” 

Harry looked around, then squeezed his eyes shut. 

“What’s wrong?” Sally-Anne asked. “Your scar?” 

“Concentrating,” he replied. “I remember seeing something on the Marauder’s Map about a passage near Hagrid’s Hut.” 

“If we slip off into the trees, we can find out,” Hermione whispered. 

“Lady Brain, are you suggesting we break the rules?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“We’re going back to the castle,” Hermione replied. “We’re just taking a different path than everyone else.” 

“Certainly not the responsible one anymore,” Sally-Anne mused. 

Harry slipped into the trees, followed by his friends. Harry led them to a tree, then pulled out the Marauder’s Map. 

“ _I solemnly swear I’m up to no good,_ ” he recited. 

When the map filled the page, he pointed to a line that led from the Forbidden Forest to the second floor. 

“Perfect,” he said. “According to the map, it’s not far.” 

Hermione studied the map, then closed her eyes. She could still see every detail in her mind. 

“Got it,” Hermione said. “Let’s go.” 

Hermione led her friends to another tree. This one was wider than the others and opened at its base. 

“Perfect,” she said as she ducked through. 

“Quickly,” Harry whispered. “I think I hear someone.” 

One by one, they followed Hermione into the tree. The tunnel itself was dark and damp, but after Ginny had a few fireballs orbiting her head, there was enough light for them to follow the tunnel. 

They got to the Hospital Wing well ahead of everyone, except for three people. 

“Salutations!” Rose exclaimed when they got the Hospital Wing. “I see you found the passage!” 

“You knew about it?” Harry asked. 

“I take note of every passage at the start of the year,” Rose replied. 

“Hey guys,” Neville wheezed. 

“Toad!” Ginny exclaimed, rushing over to his bed at the far end of the Hospital Wing. “That was amazing! Everyone else was scared when those rocks came down on you, but I–” 

“She was just as worried as the rest of us,” Hermione said before Ginny got carried away. “I’ve got the bruises on my hand where she squeezed it to prove it.” 

“How are you doing?” Harry asked as they all sat around Neville. 

“Madame Pomfrey says I’m not allowed to leave here until I graduate,” Neville said. “I got one of the good beds, so I’m not complaining yet.” 

“I don’t recall saying I was going to let you leave,” Madame Pomfrey said as she pushed through them to force something down Neville’s throat. 

Hermione looked Neville over. Madame Pomfrey had cleaned him up since he left the arena, and lying in bed, he didn’t look that bad, especially for someone who’d been crushed under rocks less than an hour ago. 

“What was that rope you had on the sword?” Hermione asked. 

“It looked like a tendril of Devil’s Snare,” Luna said. 

“That’s exactly what it was,” Neville replied. “I asked Professor Sprout what plant would stretch like that, and she said the best thing on hand was Devil’s Snare.” 

“I thought that hated sunlight,” Harry said. 

“It does, but it can withstand it in small amounts,” Neville replied. He winced and forced a smile. “I guess I need more now.” 

“Rose, when’s the second task?” Hermione asked. 

“February.” 

“That’s how long you’ve got to find more,” Hermione said, smiling. 

“And how long I’ve got to figure out that thing,” Neville said, struggling to point a finger at the orb sitting on the nightstand beside him. 

Hermione looked at it. It looked so ordinary for something which Neville had nearly died retrieving. 

“Maybe you smash it open?” Harry suggested. 

Neville tried to shrug, then said, “I don’t know. I can’t really try right now.” 

“Who cares?” Ginny asked, clearly still riding her high from earlier. “Hogwarts is in the lead!” 

“Professor Karkaroff certainly tried his best to stop that,” Sally-Anne said. “I can’t believe he gave everyone other than Krum a three.” 

“It’s almost like he forgot the lecture Professor Dumbledore gave everyone before the task,” Rose said. 

“Lecture?” Hermione asked. 

“He reminded them to judge everyone fairly, based on creativity and success.” 

“I don’t think Karkaroff caught that,” Harry said. 

“What did the others do?” Neville asked. “I couldn’t watch theirs.” 

“Fleur went out first,” Ginny said. “She tried this blue orb thing that bounced all over the place. That’s when we saw the force field around the orb. Then she fell and conjured a rope to grab onto the rocks. She made a bunch of them, and it made a whole web that knocked the orb out of place when the rocks moved.” 

“That sounds brilliant,” Neville said. “Why’d she lose points?” 

“Acid kept eating through the ropes,” Hermione replied. “And nearly her. Those platforms weren’t much safer than your approach.” 

“I figured when everyone kept coming into the tent looking worse.” 

“Cedric was next. He used the same spell Fleur used at first, but more of them. The bouncing balls destroyed a lot of the rocks, then he threw another one to knock the orb out of place.” 

“Krum dove right in like you did,” Ginny said. “He used one of the flame geysers to bump the orb. Nearly got roasted!” 

Hermione noted how excited Ginny seemed about the prospect of a student burning, then glared at Rose. 

<It’s not my fault,> Rose protested. 

<It’s entirely your fault.>

“I guess there was nothing to worry about after all,” Neville wheezed. “You still haven’t managed to kill me yet, Rose.” 

“Wait til February,” Rose replied. A grin crept across her face. “That’s when we really try to kill you all.” 

Except for Neville, all of her friends slowly turned to look at Rose. Each of them stared at her as if they’d forgotten she existed until that moment. The only exception was Luna, although her face rarely betrayed emotion apart from pleasantly confused. 

“Rose?” Hermione said. 

“Brain?” 

“Mind elaborating?” 

“Mind e-what?” 

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prevent herself from punching Rose. 

“What did you mean?” 

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed. “I designed the first task.” 

Hermione turned it over in her head, trying to think of the right words to use to coax the answer out of Rose. 

“Why?” 

“Because–” 

“Other than ‘Professor Dumbledore asked’,” Hermione interjected quickly. 

“My official title is ‘Chief Engineer’,” Rose said. “Like I said, I designed today’s task, and the next one. You don’t see me as much because I’m usually busy building the third task.” She tilted her head. “Also, Professor Dumbledore asked me not to spend a lot of time with Neville. He’s worried the other schools will think Hogwarts is trying to cheat if anyone finds out.” 

“That was surprisingly helpful,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Yeah, it was,” Hermione said, still suspicious of Rose. 

Hermione ran through what she knew about Rose’s involvement with the Triwizard Tournament, and the questions she still had. She was glad Rose was telling her the truth again, although still annoyed that Rose had kept it a secret, and furious that she’d apparently told Neville and not her. 

“Figured it out, then?” Rose asked. 

“The sword should’ve reflected the lightning bolts,” Neville said. “Then I realized the traps were all either lightning, fire, or acid, which are three of the big energy types in your world.” 

“Why you?” Harry asked. 

While she was thinking over Rose, Hermione made two notes: 1. Harry was talking more, and 2. Ron was talking less. 

“Professor Dumbledore said it was the best way to ensure that I didn’t try to enter and ruin the tournament,” Rose replied. “He also made me swear not to tell any of you about it, directly or indirectly, at least until after the first task. He figured it probably wouldn’t matter after that, because Brain or Moon would figure it out.” She grinned at Neville. “I guess we showed him, didn’t we?” 

Hermione relaxed, relieved that Rose had finally told them her secret. It left her with a lot of other questions, as Rose often did, but Hermione pushed them to the back of her mind. She figured she’d wait to ask Rose when it was just the two of them. 

“So you know how the orb works?” Neville asked. 

“I’m the one that made them,” Rose replied. “Before you ask, no, I won’t tell you how. That wouldn’t be fair, but trust me, it’s better than it was. Originally, Professor Dumbledore was gonna use eggs, and you had to dunk them underwater or something, and it was really confusing. I mean, how were they supposed to figure that out?” 

“Why eggs?” Hermione asked. 

“The first task was originally going to be dragons. Dragons! Come on! How boring is that?” 

“I can see why you would think that’s a bad idea,” Hermione said. 

“I know, right? I’ve _seen_ this world’s dragons, and they’re pathetic. In my world, they’re the stuff of nightmares. Little children are told tales of dragons to scare them into following the rules. If you saw a dragon flying towards you, you didn’t stop and check if it was one of the nice ones, you just ran for cover and hoped it wasn’t hungry.” 

For the second time in less than five minutes, Hermione found herself at a loss for words. Everyone around her, apart from Luna, shared her disbelief (although Luna could’ve and just not shown it on her face). This time, even Neville looked surprised. 

“Hermione?” he wheezed. 

“Yes, Neville?” 

“She’s talking about dragons.” 

“I know, it’s bothering me too.” 

“Of course, if it’s a bright, sunny day, and you see the light reflecting off its scales, then you’re safe,” Rose continued, seemingly ignorant to the looks her friends were giving her. “Metallic dragons are almost all nice. You don’t see many of them because they aren’t in their true forms often. Oh! Gold and silver ones are, but usually only those.” She grinned and bounced in her seat, which concerned them all the more. “There was one time I was lost in a forest during survival training, and a squirrel started following me. I got attacked by a pack of Goblins, which is something no kid wants to see.” Rose started laughing. “Anyway, Squirrelly turns into a Bronze Dragon and wipes out the Goblins. Doesn’t say a word, then turns back into a squirrel and followed me the rest of the way home.” 

The more Rose laughed, the more frightened the others became. Hermione, Sally-Anne, Harry, and Neville exchanged glances. 

“Rose, I can’t remember the last time I asked this,” Sally-Anne said, “but are you feeling alright?” 

“Of course I am,” Rose replied. “You know _veil of undeath_ prevents me from getting sick.” 

“And _mind blank_ stops all mind-affecting spells,” Luna added, hugging Rose. 

Rose beamed and returned the hug. 

“What’s everyone want to do the rest of the day?” Rose asked. “Professor Dumbledore said I can have the day off, so I’m not doing anything.” 

“Alright, I’ll just say it,” Hermione said. “Rose, you growl at us when we talk about dragons. Not like a normal person, who might try to change the subject or leave. No, you growl, like a mad person. Now here you are, laughing about them. What’s going on?” 

“I’m fine!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

“But–” 

“I’m fine.” 

“She’s fine,” Luna said. 

“Fine,” Hermione said. 

“Hogsmeade might be open,” Ginny suggested. 

“Gryffindor will probably want to celebrate before dinner,” Sally-Anne said, “or after dinner, so it can run later.” 

As it turned out, dinner itself was the celebration. Professor Dumbledore raised a glass to the four champions, and informed everyone that the next task would be in exactly three months. Hermione noticed that tensions weren’t nearly as high as they’d been when she arrived that morning, but there were still some people that refused to relax. 

After a nice evening, Rose brought her home, where her parents were no doubt waiting to hear how everything had gone. 

“What did you mean ‘you’re fine’?” Hermione asked when they appeared a few blocks from her house, where people were less likely to spot them, and Hermione had time to talk to Rose alone. 

Rose averted her eyes, then looked back at Hermione, indicating that Hermione was likely to get an honest response. 

“Someone reminded me recently that I wasn’t Valignatiejir’s only victim,” Rose said. “I’ve had a lot of support lately, and it all reminded me that I’m not a victim anymore. For the sake of what few survivors of him there are, I’ve got to be strong. And for the sake of everyone else, I can’t let him beat me anymore.” 

Hermione smiled and hugged Rose. 

“Good for you, Rose.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Was that story about the dragon true?” Hermione asked. 

“Yup,” Rose replied. “He still lets me call him Squirrelly! I’d forgotten that there were nice dragons.” She grinned. “Emerald Dragons are the best! I met one once. She was just as paranoid as Shadow! It was brilliant!” 

It was Hermione’s turn to laugh. 

“Of course she was, Rose.” She sighed, processing her new information. “You’re friends with dragons. That’s gonna take me a while to wrap my head around.” 

“Sort of. Squirrelly’s the guardian of the Rymy Forest in Faera. Every forest on De’rok’s got a guardian.” She tilted her head. “How many of them do I know?” 

“More than just Squirrelly?” 

“Carolina’s the guardian of the Emering Forest on Thedo. I guess I’ve met a lot of members of the Guardians of the Green, who assign the guardians.” Her face lit up. “They’re the ones that showed me _speak with anything_!” 

Hermione found the conversation uninteresting, apart from learning more about Rose’s world, although it did remind her of another question she had. 

“Rose, is it alright if I talk with your family?” 

“So long as you wait until after I’ve left,” Rose replied. “It’d be rude.” 

Hermione laughed at Rose’s hypocrisy, although she appreciated Rose’s trust. 

“You do that all the time.” 

“You can’t prove anything.” 

In spite of everything, Hermione and Rose laughed the rest of the way home. Hermione wasn’t sure who Rose was underneath everything, but she knew that of everyone, she had the best idea, and she was looking forward to seeing what came next. 

* * *

The following Monday began as a normal day for Luna. The weekend had been exciting, what with the first task the previous Thursday, but Luna still found time to enjoy herself amidst all the excitement. 

“Ms. Lovegood, would you please stay for a moment?” 

Luna glanced at the door and spotted Firecracker in the corridor. Luna caught her attention and indicated that she should wait. 

After a nod from Firecracker, Luna approached Professor Babbling’s desk. 

“Yes, Professor?” 

“I’ve received a letter from your father,” Professor Babbling said. “He says you’re leaving after this year.” 

“I am,” Luna said, nodding. 

Professor Babbling gave Luna a look that told her Professor Babbling was waiting for her to elaborate. If Luna had learned anything from keeping a secret her whole life, it was to never offer information. 

“Why?” Professor Babbling asked. 

Rule Two: If you must offer information, only offer unhelpful information. 

“We’ve noticed a rise in wrackspurts lately, and–” 

“Luna, I’ve known you your whole life,” Professor Babbling said. “I was there when your parents were married. I was one of the first people to hold you when you were born, and one of the first people to learn of your mother’s passing. The rest of the world sees your father as eccentric or mad, but I know better. I have no doubt that wrackspurts played a part in it, but that’s not the real reason, is it?” 

Luna wanted to tell her the real reason, but the truth was, she didn’t know the real reason. Both Rose and her dad knew, but neither of them explained anything beyond “You’ll understand later”. Unless they had, and Luna got confused and dismissed it as another dream. 

“I don’t know why,” Luna said. “Daddy won’t tell me.” 

Luna began to run through her memories again. She ventured into her mind, opening the storage cupboard in her head in which she stored every memory from every Luna. Every drawer was marked, and every memory was organized. 

She picked through the memories from her life, looking for anything about why she was leaving. She’d done the same thing hundreds of times, but she kept working at it, hoping she’d find something she missed. 

“The reason I’m asking is that I’ve been looking over your work, and I’d like to offer you the opportunity to work with me as my research assistant,” Professor Babbling said. 

Professor Babbling’s words knocked Luna out of her daze, but threw her into a new one. She didn’t know what to say. What was she supposed to say? She wasn’t sure she wanted to study runes for the rest of her life. She couldn’t just tell Professor Babbling that. What if she got upset? 

_What do you want?_ Rose would ask. 

_I don’t want to leave,_ Luna thought. Would she stay if she took the offer? Was she still leaving? She didn’t know what to do. 

She frantically picked through her own memories, tearing through them for information. 

_Can I stay if I accept?_

Brain was Professor Vector’s assistant, wasn’t she? No, she was Professor Snape’s. No, that wasn’t right either. Luna was certain Brain was doing research with someone, but she couldn’t remember who it was. 

_I want to stay. Am I still leaving? What do I do? Where am I? Who am I?_

Thoughts and memories that Luna worked tirelessly to keep organized fell apart. A whirlwind of jumbled noise flooded her head as the memories of hundreds of Lunas stole her ability to think straight. Her storage cabinet didn’t just fall apart; it fell on top of her, burying her in information. 

_Where am I? Who am I?_

“Luna?” 

Luna snapped her head towards the sound and saw Professor Babbling sitting behind her desk. What had they been discussing? Was she supposed to say something? 

“I… I…” 

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Professor Babbling said. “Just think about it.” 

Luna didn’t know about what she was supposed to be thinking, but she frantically grabbed her belongings, or at least she hoped the lone pack sitting in the classroom was hers, and ran out of the room. 

“Luna?” a voice she vaguely identified as belonging to Ginny Weasley said. 

Luna didn’t stop to see if it was her that had spoken, choosing instead to race down the corridor. 

“Luna!” 

Luna struggled to keep her thoughts together long enough to use them to find a place to hide. 

_What floor is this?_

Professor Babbling taught Ancient Runes, didn’t she? Or was it Defence Against the Dark Arts? What floors were those? 

Luna reached the cavity that held the moving staircases and counted the floors. 

“Five below,” she muttered. “What’s closest?” 

Ravenclaw Tower was two floors up, but she didn’t know if that was safe, nor if she was in Ravenclaw. She was usually in Ravenclaw, wasn’t she? If she understood her own thoughts now pouring out of their imaginary storage cupboard correctly, it usually wasn’t. The Room of Requirement was on the same floor as Ravenclaw Tower (probably), but it wasn’t always there. 

“Nowhere’s safe,” she whispered. She concentrated on the past few minutes, but couldn’t figure out what she’d been doing. “How did this happen?” 

She raced down the stairs, bumping into people with different uniforms. Was she still in Hogwarts? If not, where was she? 

When she reached the bottom floor, she ran outside and into the vegetable patch. It was the one place she remembered always being empty. To her good fortune, it was empty again. 

Luna sat down in the patch and gathered her thoughts. She felt a pack on her shoulder and vaguely remembered grabbing it from Professor Babbling’s classroom. She pulled it off her shoulder and looked at it. There were two large “L”s on it, so she hoped it was hers. Who gave it to her? Or did she steal it? Or make it? 

_If you ever lose your way, just look at this rune, and it will help you find your way back._

Her mum’s words broke through the storm like a shining light, coming to save her from the chaos. Luna unrolled her left sleeve and found the rune of which her mother spoke. 

Every Luna had a tattoo in the exact same spot, but each of them had a different runic pattern. In every version of her life, her mum imprinted it just after her fifth birthday, when the dreams began confusing her. She glanced at it from time to time when she thought no one was looking. Luna couldn’t possibly explain it to anyone that asked, and she didn’t want to risk giving away her family’s secret. When she desperately needed it, she could use it to identify where she was and piece her mind back together. 

Hers were a few in the shape of a flower, which meant… 

“Moon,” she whispered. 

She was Moon, which meant Tutela was inside her pack. Luna opened her pack and allowed the homunculus to emerge. 

Tutela nuzzled against Luna, comforting her and telling her stories about her life to calm her down. 

Once she had her thoughts reorganized, Luna remembered why she’d ran in the first place. Professor Babbling wanted her to study runes, but that wasn’t what Luna wanted. Runes were fun, but she liked studying animals better. If she said “no”, Professor Babbling might not like her anymore. Would Ancient Runes still be fun? Would Professor Babbling be mad at her? What was she supposed to do? 

<Why don’t you ask Rose?> Tutela asked. 

“What if she’s upset too? She’s always happy when I use runes. What if she’s not happy anymore?” 

<What about Brain or Princess?>

“Princess is always so busy, and Brain’s gone.” 

<Write to Brain and ask her about it.>

“What if… if I accept, can I stay here? I’d have to stay here, right?” 

<You don’t want to leave your father.>

“He’s leaving me,” Luna cried. “I don’t want to leave.” 

Tutela nestled against Luna, who gladly embraced her homunculus. 

Tears fell onto Tutela’s fur, disappearing in the pitch black fuzz. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Luna repeated. “Why do we have to leave?” 

<Rose won’t say, and your dad’s careful not to talk about it while I’m in the room.>

This wasn’t news to Luna, but she was thankful for Tutela’s company and soft voice. It comforted her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She’d never be alone again. 

<Rose can still visit, just like with Brain,> Tutela said. <Even if you have to leave, you’ll still have us.>

Luna wiped the tears from her eyes, cheered up by Tutela’s words. She hugged Tutela one last time before they returned to the castle. 

She found Princess and Firecracker waiting for her at the gate. 

“There you are!” Princess exclaimed. “We were worried.” 

“Why’d you run off like that?” Firecracker asked. 

“Professor Babbling said something about an unknown animal near Hogwarts,” Luna replied in her normal, dreamy voice, designed specifically to mask her real emotions. “I thought it was the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, so Tutela and I went out to look.” She tilted her head. “It wasn’t.” 

“You gave us all quite a fright,” Princess said. 

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” Luna said. “I didn’t want to miss it.” 

Princess frowned at Luna, who felt someone rooting around in her head. She was no stranger to the feeling. She’d felt it when the sorting hat picked through her mind and when she practiced with her dad. Princess used _detect thoughts_ , so it was harder to sense, but it was certainly there. It was how Luna knew about the pendant. 

“We’d all be grateful if you said something next time instead of rushing off,” Princess said sternly. 

“Okay,” Luna replied noncommittally. 

With everything else happening, Luna decided Professor Babbling’s offer could wait, and pushed it to the back of her mind inside her filing cabinet. Besides, she was certain Toad was in the Triwizard Tournament, and he might need her help. After all, he was always nice to her. 

* * *

Harry left for flight practice just after lunch on Wednesday. He was surprised to find that he enjoyed it, despite only getting to fly for demonstration purposes once or twice. 

“Potter!” 

That particular day was notable because Madame Hooch never approached him before class. He was expected to show up before her to have the students ready when she arrived. 

“Madame Hooch?” 

“I’ve got a meeting, so you’ll have to manage on your own. It’s the last class before winter, so it’s free-fly. Don’t let them stand around and talk. Have them run some of Wood’s practice drills if that’s what it takes to keep them in the air.” 

“Yes, Madame Hooch,” Harry replied automatically. 

“I’m counting on you, Potter.” 

It wasn’t until after Madame Hooch left that it sank in that he’d be teaching the class on his own. 

Why’d she wait until the last minute to say anything? She could’ve at least given him a chance to prepare. He’d be going in blind, with no idea what to do. He wasn’t ready for running it on his own. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered when he reached the courtyard. 

“Good afternoon, class!” Harry barked. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Potter!” the class recited. 

“Madame Hooch will be joining us later,” he said. “Until then, it’s–” 

One of the students raised his hand. 

“Yes, Mr. Pritchard?” 

“Is it true Longbottom cheated on the first task?” 

The question caught him off guard, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Graham Pritchard was every bit the stereotypical Slytherin that Malfoy was. If he’d had blond hair and a pair of goons, Harry would’ve mistaken him for Malfoy. 

“Of course not,” Harry said. “Please keep–” 

“I heard Dumbledore told him what the task was,” Pritchard said. 

“No he didn’t!” Dennis Creevey exclaimed. 

“Quiet!” Harry shouted. “I know the Triwizard Tournament is exciting and we all want to talk about it, but this is _flight_ class, not gossip class.” 

“If he didn’t cheat, how’d he win?” 

“Practice, which is what _we_ are going to be doing today,” Harry said. “Who likes watching Quidditch?” 

Most hands went up. 

“Since it’s the last class before winter, there’s nothing to do except practice, so I’m going to show you some maneuvers. If you keep practicing, you might even be picked for the team next year.” He paused to let it sink in. “Or would you all rather keep talking about rumors?” 

Hearing no arguments from the other students, he took a bag of tennis balls out of his bag. 

“These are called ‘tennis balls’,” he explained, knowing that wizards didn’t have tennis. “They’re part of a Muggle sport, for you purebloods, but they’re great for Quidditch practice. I want everyone to partner up and try tossing them between yourselves while in the air. Spread out every time you catch one, and see how far you can get before one of you misses.” 

As he had expected, the students partnered up with members of their own house. Harry thought it was something learned, but from day one, students kept to their own houses. 

He watched the students toss the tennis balls, complementing them when they did well, and tossing the balls back up when they didn’t. 

Alas, flight class wouldn’t be flight class without something going wrong. 

Pritchard and his partner, Malcolm Baddock, grabbed the tennis ball from Dennis and his partner, Demelza Robins, possibly the only pair that hadn’t dropped it yet. 

“Pritchard! Baddock!” Harry barked. “Give it back!” 

“Or what?” Baddock jeered. 

Harry smiled. It wasn’t a smirk, just a smile, something he realized he’d picked up from Rose. Most of the students hadn’t met Rose, and none of them knew her I’m-going-to-kill-you-now face, so none of them knew what he was about to do. Without a word, he drew his broom from his pack. He had the attention of every student now, along with the few onlookers he knew were lurking in the shadows, because apparently people didn’t have anything better to do on a Wednesday afternoon than stalk him. 

Harry held his broom but didn’t mount it. His eyes followed the tennis ball as Baddock and Pritchard tossed it between themselves, laughing at Dennis and Demelza as they frantically tried to get it back. 

“Out of the way!” 

The students obediently withdrew to the sides of his line of sight, giving him a clear shot at the two Slytherins. 

“ _You want this, Potter?!_ ” Not Malfoy said. “ _Fetch!_ ” 

Three years ago, Malfoy said the same thing just before throwing Neville’s Rememberall at Gryffindor Tower. Harry had caught it while Professor McGonagall watched, and he was given permission to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team a year early. In the process, Harry had nearly collided with Gryffindor Tower and killed himself. 

He wasn’t eleven anymore, and he wasn’t riding a school broom. 

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, shooting through the air at Pritchard. The tennis ball hadn’t traveled a foot when Harry caught it, stopping abruptly in front of a shocked Pritchard. 

“This isn’t a school broom,” Harry said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “it’s a _Firebolt_. Every flier at the World Cup used one.” He tossed the ball in his hand. “This is three times the size of the Golden Snitch, and you can’t throw it half as fast. To the untrained eye, it can’t be _seen_.” Harry turned to Demelza and tossed her the ball. “Robins, Creevey, you both did good work.” He swiveled in-place to face Pritchard and Baddock. “Pritchard, Baddock, on the ground. You’re done.” 

“You can’t–” Pritchard started. 

“No, I can’t,” Harry said. “All I can do is wait for Madame Hooch to get back, _or_ I can call for another teacher.” He pulled out his wand. “I can also cover your broom in grease so you fall off and slow your descent so you aren’t hurt.” 

Pritchard and Baddock exchanged looks while Harry hovered next to them. 

“What’s it going to be?” 

The boys slowly descended back to the ground, and Harry with them. 

“Good choice,” Harry said as he unmounted his broom. “Sit next to the wall until everyone else is finished, and be thankful I’m not Madame Hooch. If I were, you’d be out of here faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’.” 

With that, the other students resumed their practice. 

_I’m really glad that worked,_ Harry thought. _I need to ask Ron about a spell that can cover a broom in grease so I’m not bluffing next time._

Madame Hooch showed up ten minutes before class ended, and Harry explained the entire situation. Sure enough, Pritchard and Baddock received detention. 

As the students began to leave, Harry got Demelza’s attention. 

“Robins, in two years, most of the Gryffindor Chasers graduate, and I’ll likely be captain of the team,” he whispered. “Make sure not to miss tryouts.” 

“Mr. Potter?” 

“I doubt Angelina Johnson, the best on the team, would’ve caught the ball half as much as you did today.” 

The little girl blushed and looked at something interesting on her shoes. 

“Thank you.” 

“Your friends are waiting,” he said, smiling at the young girl. 

Harry thought back to an hour earlier when he’d been annoyed at going alone for the day, but he was proud of himself. Everything had gone about as well as he’d expected, maybe even better. 

“Good work today, Potter,” Madame Hooch said. 

“Thank you, Madame Hooch,” Harry replied. 

He watched her leave, then cleared his throat and turned to another corner of the courtyard. 

“A lady doesn’t spy on a gentleman,” he said in his best Sally-Anne impression. 

“I should’ve known you’d spot me,” Sally-Anne said, stepping out of the shadows. She had the biggest grin he’d ever seen on her face. “Nothing escapes you.” 

“What are you so happy about?” Harry asked. 

“You,” Sally-Anne replied. “That was brilliant.” 

“Thanks.” He smiled back at her. “I’ve never really said, but thank you for getting me this. If you hadn’t stood up for me last month, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You deserve this,” she said. “I wish we had someone like you in our first year. I was terrified when you flew after Neville’s bauble.” 

Harry looked into Sally-Anne’s eyes and saw the fear she’d felt that day. Maybe it was worse because they were friends. He got a sinking feeling when he realized that if he’d failed, he’d never have known Sally-Anne, and they’d never have been friends. 

“I’m glad I caught it,” he said. “Not today, but back then. If I hadn’t, I never really would’ve met you.” 

Sally-Anne blushed, reminding Harry of Demelza a few minutes ago. 

“I’m glad I met you too,” Sally-Anne said. 


	12. Shack in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two men play tug-o'-war with Rose as the rope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns some of the exposition in this chapter.

**Hallowe’en Night**

Rose appeared with Taltria and Alavel in Albus’s office. As always, Albus remained calm as she appeared, more so because he knew what was coming. 

“Thank you for–” 

“I’m not letting him compete,” Rose said. 

“Rose, he hasn’t got–” 

“I SAID NO!” Rose screamed. 

Albus took pride in the fact that he was one of the few professors – no, people – to whom Rose would open up. His victory was lessened a little by the fact that, more often than not, this involved Rose screaming at him. 

“Rose, it’s alright.” 

“No, it’s not! You said make the challenges difficult and life-threatening to a seventh-year! Now a fourth-year is being forced to compete! No one knows what he can do better than me! He’ll die!” 

“My Lady.” 

Rose glared at the Nimblewright Albus was certain to be Alavel. 

No one spoke for a minute, although Albus wasn’t sure why. He initially assumed they were talking to her, but realized that they couldn’t be. Rose didn’t tend to her face or body when “pathing”, so it was always obvious when she did. 

After a time, Rose turned back to Albus. 

“I’m calm,” she said. 

“Thank you both. First, we’ve got the business of figuring out who put poor Mr. Longbottom’s name–” 

“Don’t call him poor,” Rose said. “He’s not.” 

“Alright, but we still must determine how his name got into the Goblet of Fire.” He turned to Alavel and Taltria. “You’re sure no one got past you?” 

“We can account for every second of the past day, Lord Headmaster,” Alavel said. 

“While any other day I’d find that amusing, please refer to me as ‘Professor Dumbledore’ for the time being.” 

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore. We can list off every student that passed the age line.” 

“No name was placed into the goblet for which we cannot account,” Taltria added. “It didn’t flare up unless a name was thrown into it.” 

Albus nodded, then folded his hands in front of his face. 

“How many people in this world know the name ‘Arcrel’?” 

“My friends,” Rose said. “Maybe the Twins, probably Brain’s parents, Moon’s dad, you, Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, maybe Professor Lupin. Probably Wormtail. I don’t know, I mention it a lot.” 

“What about its full name?” 

“What?” Rose asked. 

“I mean,” Albus said, sliding a burnt piece of parchment towards her, “how many people know the name ‘Arcrel Academy of Artificing’?” 

Rose looked down at the parchment, then back up at Albus. 

“That’s more specific. Brain, Moon… I can’t think of anyone else.” She looked down at the parchment again. “Toad was entered under Arcrel?” 

“He was, and the longer we cover that up, the worse it looks for us.” 

Rose frowned at the parchment, then glared at Albus. He tensed up for another outburst. 

“I didn’t do this!” Rose shouted. “I’m not stupid enough to enter him under Arcrel, and I thought you’d be clever enough to realize that I wouldn’t put my friends in danger!” 

Albus stood up, hoping to intimidate her into submission, forgetting for a moment that Rose was no normal girl. He realized his mistake when Rose hopped onto his desk, putting them at eye-level. 

“Listen, Old Man, I–” 

Rose stood in front of him, her mouth still open, but didn’t make a sound. She didn’t breathe or blink. Albus glanced to his left at Fawkes’s perch, noting that the phoenix still moved. 

_Time hasn’t stopped,_ Albus thought, although a little disappointed. 

Rose slowly closed her mouth, then backed up off Albus’s desk. 

“I’m sorry for snapping like that,” Rose said. 

“I will accept your apology, so long as you tell me what happened just now.” 

“As I told him to do, Alavel informed Uncle Oz when I got carried away.” 

Albus nodded, thankful to have a restraint on the girl, and briefly lamented the absence of such a restraint the previous year. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before proceeding down a dangerous path. 

“Given the circumstances, I would rather we resume control of the tasks.” 

“What?!” 

“My Lady–” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t do this?!” 

“I believe you, but I might be the only one.” 

Rose laughed, and Albus realized he was starting to lose her again. 

“Sure you do,” she said. 

“Please calm down.” 

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

“I know you have no reason to enter one of your friends,” Albus said. “I took a risk in letting Taltria and Alavel patrol the Goblet of Fire, because I thought this wouldn’t happen. If almost any other student had been entered, then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Unfortunately, it was one of your friends, entered under your old school, while your creations stood guard, all of which makes you look terribly guilty.” 

Rose continued her breathing, but kept her eyes locked on Albus. 

“The problem with which we are now presented is that two Hogwarts students are entered in the Triwizard Tournament, one of our own students is in charge of designing the tasks and securing the Goblet of Fire to prevent just that from happening, and the second Hogwarts champion just so happens to be that student’s friend. If your part in this comes to light, everything will point to us attempting to rig the tasks in Hogwarts’s favor.” 

“Is there any chance we can get Karkaroff and Maxime to understand the situation?” Rose asked. 

“It’s not likely,” Albus said. “It’s possible that Madame Maxime will understand, but Professor Karkaroff is too caught up in the competition. He won’t see it as a crisis, but as an attempt at winning by any means necessary.” 

“I don’t suppose we can blackmail him, can we?” Rose asked. “Is it common knowledge that he used to be a Death Eater?” 

“How do you know that?” 

Rose shrugged. “I’ve been through the DMLE’s records on Voldemort. I know every Death Eater by name.” 

“When was this?” 

“Last year when I was tracking down Hufflepuff’s Cup. Madame Bones said someone called in a favor to let me look over her records on Voldemort while she looked the other way. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Albus frowned, not understanding the girl’s words. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Who else could call in a favor like that?” 

“Of course.” 

Albus concentrated on the previous year. He might’ve called in a favor with Madame Bones. The whole fiasco was still such a blur. Depressed students, stressed out teachers, and screaming little girls that broke his things. Add to that an earthquake, a man he was certain was guilty turning out to be innocent, and a man he was certain was dead turning out to be alive, and you got one complicated year. 

“Returning to your original question, we’d have to explain to them who you are and why I chose to allow you to design the tasks.” 

Rose stared vacantly at his desk, once again showing no signs that she was communicating with anyone. She never blinked, which Albus found a little off-putting. 

“You promised I could work on them,” she said in a voice that Albus nearly didn’t hear. “I already finished the first two, and I start building the third one tomorrow. I made a _ring of telekinesis_ over the summer to help. You promised I could. That was the deal; I follow the rules, and you let me build the tasks.” 

When Albus looked at Rose, he saw something he never expected to see: a brokenhearted little girl. It tugged at his heartstrings, and he hated it. 

_There might be a way out of this._

“What is your plan for Mr. Longbottom?” 

“I’m putting him through everything Ali put me through,” Rose said. “Survival training, combat, everything that pops into my head. Unlike last year, I can ask Ali for her help.” 

“What can you do that’s hands off?” Albus asked. 

“Everything,” Rose replied. “Survival training’s just putting him in the Forbidden Forest and having him find his way out. I’ll have Int watch him so he doesn’t die. Ali did that with me when I first started out, and I learned a lot.” 

Albus thought carefully about the words he was about to use. If he used the wrong words, everything would fall apart, because the request he was about to make would surely not sit well with the girl. 

“I’ll allow you to continue with the tasks, but you’ve got to promise me that you will spend as little time as possible with Mr. Longbottom.” 

Albus stared down his student as she considered his words. He didn’t know what was going through her head, but her silence made the situation tenser with every passing second. 

“I won’t abandon him if he needs me,” Rose said. “ _If_ he needs me.” 

While her words didn’t sit well with him, Albus knew it was the best he was going to get. 

“Okay. And as a reminder, you _may not_ tell any of your friends about the tasks.” 

“I know!” 

“Right. On to the next order of business: Who put Mr. Longbottom’s name in the Goblet of Fire?” 

Rose shrugged. 

“I don’t know, but I think I know how to find out.” 

“If you find out on your own, you must involve me at every step. I will then–” 

“That’s not gonna work,” Rose said. 

Albus thought his next move through, then nodded. 

“I guess it’s time, then.” 

“Time for what?” 

Albus reached into his desk and took out a box. It unfolded into a map, then the map expanded upward into eight floors. He took a few figurines from the same drawer and placed them on his map of Hogwarts. 

“This,” he said, holding up a small red and black figurine, “is you.” He placed a large snake on the map. “This is the Basilisk. When you ran off, it was just outside the Hospital Wing, waiting for you to leave so it could kill off your friends.” 

“Yes,” Rose said slowly. 

“According to your friends, Ms. Lovegood was restored within a minute of defeating the Basilisk.” He knocked the snake over and put a white figurine in one of the beds in the Hospital Wing. 

“With you so far.” 

“This is where your story stops making sense. According to the reports from Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey, you arrived in the Hospital Wing no more than seven minutes later.” He held up another figurine. “You were underground, so Lockhart couldn’t have detained you for more than 30 seconds, and that’s being rather generous to Mr. Lockhart. You didn’t bother turning him to stone, so you were already at close range. That means he likely didn’t last two rounds before you punched him. You were also wearing a bandoleer containing explosives that no one has seen before or since, meaning you’ve never had occasion to use it otherwise.” 

Rose’s eyes lingered on Albus long enough for him to see it: fear. 

“Taltria, Alavel, wait outside for me.” 

“My Lady–” 

“Just do it!” Rose’s voice cracked. Her creations reluctantly obeyed. When she looked at Albus again, she’d regained her composure, but not enough that he couldn’t still see her fear. 

“Since I see you’re not going to comply until given no other choice, I’ll continue.” He waved his wand and the figurines rearranged themselves. He placed a dragon on the board, near five figurines that represented Rose and her friends. “Do you know when we are?” 

“Hallowe’en,” Rose said. 

“Very good. We have never identified this dragon nor how it came to be inside the grounds. I’ve consulted with several experts who all say they’ve never seen something like it. Through the castle, you were able to detect its presence, as well as the presence of something else a month prior. That something else has never been identified… by us, that is.” 

He waved his wand again and moved his own figurine and Rose’s into Ravenclaw Tower. 

“Which brings me to last year in Ravenclaw Tower. Of all the tricks I’ve seen you use, sensing the presence of a specific animal behind a wall and up a flight of stairs isn’t one of them.” He paused, hoping Rose would volunteer the information, but when she didn’t he continued. “Unless you spoke with the castle.” 

Albus knew he was on the right track because Rose still wouldn’t speak a word. Her face had returned to neutral, which meant she was hiding something. 

_At least she’s not lying._

“Finally, over the summer you told me that something stopped you from communicating with your family last year, and it somehow involved Hufflepuff’s Cup,” Albus finished. 

“I never said it–” 

“You didn’t need to. You asked Atrien about it, who directed you to Susan and Amelia Bones. Immediately after these events, you were missing from the grounds, and when you returned, you had Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew in hand within the day.” 

Rose stubbornly refused to answer him, but once again, Albus chose to focus on the fact that she still wasn’t lying to him. 

“So let’s review: something awoke within the castle, sent a dragon-snake after you and your friends, delayed you in the Chamber of Secrets, stopped you from communicating with your family until you collected Hufflepuff’s Cup, and helped you find a lost cat in Ravenclaw Tower. Now you wish to use methods you won’t explain in order to find out who put Mr. Longbottom’s name in the Goblet of Fire. This paints a rather clear picture of something living inside the Chamber of Secrets about which you won’t talk, but can see everywhere in the castle at all times and affect the wards that protect Hogwarts as it pleases, thus enabling it to set up some sort of communications barrier. It also possesses a host of creatures, of which the Basilisk may have been one, one of which required the use of heavy explosives to subdue.” 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

“You want to know if that’s all true, and then you’re expecting me to spill everything now that you know.” 

“That would be best.” 

“I can’t.” Rose visibly shook as she spoke. “He’ll kill you.” 

A wave of Albus’s wand folded the 3-D map of Hogwarts back into its box. 

“Is he a threat to the students?” 

“Not if no one knows he’s there. No one else on this plane knows he exists.” 

“Why are you so afraid of him?” 

“Because he killed me,” Rose replied. “I’ve got a contingent _revivify_ on myself in case I die, so I survived the fight, but… he’ll kill you or the students if he thinks you’re a threat.” 

Albus thought long and hard about what to do next. Whatever this thing was that lived in the Chamber of Secrets had Rose terrified, which meant it was no laughing matter. It was capable of killing Rose, which likely meant the only person in Hogwarts that stood a chance against it was Albus himself. It could see and hear everything, which made it both an invaluable ally and a formidable foe. Rose believed that it posed no threat to the students, but she wouldn’t say more than that. 

“However you find out about the Goblet of Fire, I want to know who it was as soon as you do,” Albus said. “I won’t speak of your mysterious friend to anyone, but if you believe he poses a threat at any time, inform me _immediately_.” 

Rose nodded, a hint of fear still present in her eyes. 

“When you find out who it was, we will work out a plan to expose the culprit.” 

“Okay,” Rose said. “I… I…” 

“There’s no need to be worried. I’ll be quite alright. Perhaps concerned that I’m being watched, but alright.” 

* * *

**Present Day**

Albus wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Rose appearing in his office no longer startled him. He didn’t care for the girl’s nonchalant attitude towards boundaries, but it didn’t surprise him that she showed up at random. 

“What do you know of Barty Crouch, Jr.?” she asked. 

“His father sent him to Azkaban over ten years ago, where he died.” 

Rose frowned and pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “What about his mother?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” 

“So it’s possible that his mother could’ve died in her son’s place?” 

The specificity of Rose’s answer put Albus on edge. Someone was feeding her information. 

_Must be her new friend,_ Albus thought. 

“Why would you say that?” he asked, hoping to coax more information about her supplier out of her. 

“Because Junior’s got his father under the Imperius Curse,” Rose replied. “I thought I’d tell you before I made my next move. You wanted me to keep you updated and all that.” 

Another aspect of Rose’s attitude putting Albus on edge was how calm she was. There was no joy in her eyes, just… apathy. Albus made a mental note to watch Rose’s attitude more carefully in the coming days. 

“I appreciate you following through on that, but there is something else I need your help with.” 

“With which you need my help,” Rose corrected. “My brother hates it when people put prepositions at the end of their sentences.” 

_I wouldn’t have thought our languages translated so cleanly._

“Fair enough. First, may I ask how Mr. Longbottom’s name got into the Goblet of Fire?” 

Rose paused for a moment, her eyes returning to the ceiling. 

“Senior transmuted a piece of parchment to be identical to the goblet’s surface,” she said without taking her eyes off the ceiling. “He had a fading rune on it, so it turned back into a piece of parchment the second we opened it. That flare we saw when you announced it was it registering Toad’s name. It also released a… confusion charm on the goblet to trick it into thinking there were four schools.” 

“Do you mean a _Confundus_ Charm?” Albus asked. 

“That.” Rose’s gaze returned to Albus. 

It concerned Albus how trusting Rose seemed of her source, but at the moment, he had nothing else. 

“So do I get to go after him or not?” 

“Let’s say it is Crouch. Does he pose a threat to any other students?” 

Rose’s gaze returned to the ceiling. 

_If I’m going to communicate with this… entity, then perhaps it’d be easier to do it without going through Rose._

“Not to Toad, no.” 

“And anyone else?” 

Albus waited patiently for Rose to finish staring at the ceiling. He didn’t take his focus off her, lest he risk missing some small detail about her interaction with her friend. The more Albus knew about their relationship, the better. 

“Scarface was the original target,” Rose said. “He is in no more danger than he would be otherwise.” 

“Rose, that’s not–” 

“If you want to know anything else, you’ll have to ask someone else.” 

Albus took that as a sign that they were through helping him. He had what he needed; he had Crouch’s name, and an assurance that Neville was in no immediate danger, apart from being a champion in the Triwizard Tournament. 

“Thank you, Rose.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Now, there is something else _with which I need your help_.” 

Rose beamed at him and his proper use of prepositions. 

“It’s regarding one of your ideas for the second task.” 

“Which one?” 

“The one that’s less likely to get them killed.” 

Rose frowned and tilted her head. 

“The one that doesn’t involve monsters from another world.” 

“Oh, that one!” 

“Yes, that one. In order to put it in place, we’ll have to know a lot more about the champions. I’m sure you know plenty about Mr. Longbottom, but we’ll need more information on the others.” 

“Can’t we just ask Maxime and Karkaroff?” 

“They’re not as observant as I am.” 

“Figures.” Rose tilted her head again. “I’m sure I can figure out something. Did you have an answer about the other ideas?” 

Albus had hoped to avoid the topic of Rose’s… suggestions on the second task, especially after watching four students nearly die in the first. Worse yet were the loose guidelines he’d given her regarding the third task. He hoped he wouldn’t regret giving so much freedom, but he had a horrible feeling that he would. 

“I’ll give you the small ones, if you can get the necessary information. But you can’t have both the big one and the medium one.” 

Rose pouted and folded her arms. 

“Fine. I can’t see how I’d get a kraken here anyway.” 

“Then it’s settled then. That will be all, Rose.” 

Rose nodded and vanished, leaving Albus alone to plan his next move. 

He didn’t know anything about Rose’s friend in the castle, and he was hesitant to look into the subject. If her friend found him snooping around, it could put Albus – or worse, the _students_ – in danger. 

What concerned him the most was that the entity was drawing Rose to him. Was he appealing to her chaotic nature? What was his endgame? What was significant about Hufflepuff’s Cup? How long had he existed? Why hadn’t he made a move until now? Was he connected to Voldemort? What was his interest in Rose? 

Albus had a lot of questions, but he was more concerned about Rose than about finding the answers. It wasn’t that different from watching Tom slip away all those years ago. What made it worse was that there was someone actively pulling her away from him. 

_I won’t fail this time,_ Albus promised himself. 

* * *

Rose appeared in the Chamber of Secrets and found Sally sitting in a black and emerald throne. 

“What’s with the chair?” 

“I grew tired of sitting on the floor.” He held his hand out expectantly. “I helped you.” 

“Yup.” Rose reached inside her picnic basket and took out a small ring with a black gem in it. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sally said, taking the ring from her. “Where do you want to go from here?” 

“Why did Crouch put a name in the Goblet of Fire?” Rose asked without thinking. 

“The final task is completed when a champion grabs the cup. The cup brings him or her out of the task, but Crouch intended to alter it to bring the champion to a graveyard. Junior would meet the contestant there, whom he would ensure would be Scarface, restrain him, then use his blood in a ritual to resurrect Voldemort.” 

“I thought this lot couldn’t do that!” 

“Not exactly, which brings me to this,” Sally said, holding up the ring. “Marvolo Gaunt’s Ring, Hufflepuff’s Cup, and Slytherin’s Locket are all what they call ‘Horcruxes’.” 

Rose rolled her eyes. 

“Can’t this lot use normal words?” 

“A Horcrux is a soul fragment bound to a physical container. It functions as an anchor to the rest of the soul, but can only be created by fracturing the soul, which in turn can only be done by killing someone. The worst wizards made one or two, but Voldemort made several.” 

Rose looked around the Chamber of Secrets, then turned to Sally. 

“No chair for me?” 

A wave of Sally’s hand produced a simple wooden chair. 

“Thanks,” Rose replied dryly, sitting in the chair across from Sally. 

“That wraith you saw fly out of… whatever his name was is what remains of Voldemort… I can’t keep saying that name, it’s too ridiculous. Tommy hasn’t got a container, but the ritual would create a new one and draw his soul to it.” 

“Why are we collecting them?” 

“There are two ways to kill someone like Tommy. The first is to destroy each Horcrux, then kill the man. Tommy has split his soul so many times that he’d be trapped in limbo, never moving on. His soul’s too damaged, so it will remain trapped here.” 

“And the–” 

“The second is to collect each Horcrux and alter Tommy’s mind to force him to regret what he’s done. Each soul fragment will rejoin with the primary soul, allowing us to kill him and send his soul where it belongs.” 

As Sally spoke, Rose envisioned it all in her mind. Rejoining pieces of a soul sounded like a good thing, although something about soul fragments struck her as familiar. 

“What about the diary?” Rose asked. “That had his soul in it too, didn’t it?” 

Sally remained silent for longer than Rose would’ve liked. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Sally.” 

“The truth will make you angry. A lie risks losing your trust.” 

Rose crossed her legs in her chair. 

“I’ll try to understand. You helped me keep Toad safe, and you haven’t tried to kill me recently.” 

Sally reached into his throne and produced a familiar black book. He placed it on the arm of his chair. 

“It _has_ his soul in it,” he said. 

“I destroyed that.” 

“I fed the idea to your friends to take the diary and intercepted them on the way. I switched it for a fake, keeping the original in a safe place. Unfortunately, I had to avoid suspicion, so the person with the fake needed to become possessed by the Heir of Slytherin.” 

Rose clenched her fists, using every ounce of focus she had to keep the word “unfortunately” in her mind. 

“Tommy?” 

“Cruentius.” 

“Little Moon?” 

“I really am sorry, Rose,” Sally said. “Were I to make the same choice now, I’d choose a different host, or find a way around it entirely.” 

“Why not let me destroy it?” 

“If just one of these is destroyed, there’s no way to salvage Tommy’s soul. I had originally intended to let them be destroyed, but I anticipated you being… different. When I heard your story of Sentrum last year, I knew you’d never want to trap a person’s soul like that.” 

“Why go through that at all?!” 

“Because Lucius Malfoy was expecting the Basilisk to attack, and if nothing had happened, he’d become suspicious. He is easily the most clever of Tommy’s followers, and not the person I want asking questions.” 

“Have you got any idea what you did to Little Moon?” Rose asked, trying hard to keep her anger down. “What you put her through?” 

“Right now, what I’m doing is monitoring her dreams every night to ensure that she never experiences any more of what Valignatiejir did to you.” 

Sally’s response caught Rose off guard. 

“Why?” 

“Whatever makes my life easier. Right now, it’s simply easier if you trust me.” 

Rose nodded. Did she trust him? She thought back to the past year. He’d stopped her from going to her family, but only to get her attention. After that, he’d helped her out during Pettigrew’s attack on Hogwarts, then helped her kill Valignatiejir and restore time. He’d even helped save her friends. 

“I trust you Sally… Salazar.” 

“Call me Slytherin,” he said. “That name means far more to me than any other.” 

“Sly. I’ll call you Sly.” 

“Okay,” Sly said, approving just as much of his new name as his old one. 

“Since we’re being honest and trusting each other, why do you want to kill Tommy?” 

Sly stared at her with the same disinterest Crookshanks often had. 

“I see Tommy as a foolish teenager who thinks he’s tougher than everyone else simply because he’s been through some hardship. He kills people in my name, and if people are going to do that, I’d rather they have the decency to kill the right people. After all, my name’s all I’ve got left.” 

Rose nodded again, then decided the subject needed to be changed. 

“I’ve got to collect information about the other champions. Think you can help?” 

“I know the names of two people at Hogwarts: you and Dumbledore. Why would I know anything about the other students if I don’t bother to learn their names?” 

“Good point.” 

“Why don’t you have the NPCs do it? You do care for them quite a lot.” 

Rose let out a small, involuntary laugh. “If I didn’t know any better, Sly, I’d say you were jealous.” 

“After almost a thousand years here, Little Rosie, I don’t feel much of anything anymore.” 

Rose laughed at her sort of friend like the immature child she pretended to be, then vanished from the Chamber of Secrets. 


	13. Social Activity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sally-Anne makes many new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter might be among J.K. Rowling's friends.

Neville’s eyes snapped open at five o’clock Monday morning, and he began his regular exercise routine. After throwing some raggedy clothes on, he ran through 50 each of sit-ups, push-ups, squats, and anything else that came to his mind. When he finished, he slung his pack over his shoulder and ran up the spiral staircase to the first-year boys’ rooms. When he reached it, he ran straight back down, repeating this five times. Not being allowed to run in the corridors, he’d had to figure out an alternative to stay in shape. 

_You get tired out, you’ll probably die._

_I haven’t forgotten, Rose._

The sixth lap was the hardest. Starting from the bottom of the stairs, his goal was to reach the top of the stairs and return to the bottom, all without touching the stairs themselves. Every time he failed, he’d return to the bottom if he was working his way up, or the top when working his way down. The overall goal was to accomplish it before the other boys woke up, securing himself the shower in their room. Otherwise, he was stuck waiting for an hour while Dean and Seamus took their sweet time with it. 

Neville got to work. He jumped, then kicked off from the side. His eyes darted around the wall. He spotted a crevice. His left hand shot towards it. With a firm grip, he got traction from his shoes, then kicked off again. Again and again, he worked his way up to the top. After practicing it for a week, he’d finally made it to the top without slipping. That was always the hardest part. 

Neville took a moment to rest on the top of the stairs, then started back down. Now, the trick was not leaping too hard. With gravity working for him, he needed a lot less energy. First-years, second-years, third-years… he passed his own room. 

_Almost got it._

“Whatcha doing?” 

The Twins emerged from their room. Neville thought fast and spotted a window sill nearby. He darted over to it, taking up a perch. 

“Staying in practice,” he said. “Don’t know what’s coming next, but I’m going to be ready, whatever it is.” 

“Oh,” Fred said. “We thought you were practicing getting up the girls’ dorms without tripping the staircase.” 

“Easier to pay visits to your many adoring fans,” George added. 

“Or special visits to Rose.” 

Neville blushed, but quickly shook off his embarrassment. 

“I’m not gonna… I don’t… No!” 

The Twins exchanged glances. 

“Riiiight.” 

Neville glanced at his watch. Nearly six o’clock, which meant Harry would be waking up soon. Harry was closest thing to a morning person they had in their room. Neville woke up early, sure, but Harry was the only one who really seemed to enjoy being up early. 

“Look, I’m on a schedule. Is there anything you need?” 

“Actually, we need to find Rose,” George said. 

“She’s helping us with… a problem we’ve got.” 

“Don’t get her into trouble,” Neville snapped. 

Both boys gasped. Neville rolled his eyes. 

“Us?” 

“Our Dear Toad, how–” 

Neville drew the Sword of Gryffindor. 

“Go ahead,” he said. “Keep wasting my time.” 

“I dare you,” a new voice said. 

Neville tensed himself for a fight. His instincts said the voice didn’t belong there. He grabbed a dirt pellet from his belt and hurled it at the new voice. 

Rose winked out of existence as the pellet flew through the place she’d once occupied. After it’d passed, she reappeared. 

“Good instincts, Toad,” she said. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t–” 

“You did exactly what you’re supposed to do when an intruder enters your home,” Rose said. “Attempt to blind it while you take time to assess the situation.” She beamed at him. 

Neville blushed. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome!” 

Rose turned to the Twins. They immediately stopped snickering. 

“Boys, I believe there’s something with which you need my help.” 

She started off down the staircase, leaving the Twins to run after her. 

Neville watched them go, then lept to the other wall. Inside a minute, he was at the foot of the staircase. He took a minute to get back into the right mindset, then ran back up to his room. Neville grabbed his clothes, then bolted into the bathroom before anyone apart from Harry could stir. 

* * *

In another part of Gryffindor Tower, Sally-Anne arose from her own bed. She couldn’t get over the feeling of her room being empty. No Rose, no Hermione. Just her, Lavender, and Parvati. Of course, Rose was _supposed_ to be sleeping there, but the house-elves no longer bothered to make her bed. With Tutela keeping Ravenclaw from bothering Luna too much, even Luna didn’t sleep there anymore. 

“Good morning, Parvati,” Sally-Anne said as her other friend awoke. “Sleep well?” 

“Yeah.” Parvati brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You?” 

“Alright.” 

Sally-Anne cleaned herself up. On her way out of the toilet, she found an unexpected guest waiting for her. 

Intelligencer sat on her bed. He perked up when Sally-Anne came out. A quick glance at her roommates told her that they didn’t know why he was there either. 

“Need you for something,” Intelligencer said in Rose’s voice. 

Sally-Anne glanced at her roommates. 

“Now?” 

“Now.” 

Sally-Anne smiled politely. 

“What is it?” 

“Can’t say here.” 

Sally-Anne glanced at the clock. 

“Curfew doesn’t let up for another 15 minutes. I can’t go anywhere until then.” 

Intelligencer paused. Sally-Anne waited patiently for Rose’s reply. When another minute had passed without a response, Sally-Anne chose to move the conversation forward herself. 

“Rose?” 

“Busy with something else. If anyone asks, I was in my room this morning.” 

“Why would anyone ask?” 

“No reason.” Rose’s quick response worried Sally-Anne even more. 

“Are you getting into trouble?” 

“Define ‘trouble’.” 

By now, Lavender had claimed the shower for herself, and Parvati was pretending not to hear anything. Sally-Anne didn’t blame her; there were days when she didn’t want anything to do with Rose. 

“Will you be finished with whatever it is by the time breakfast is over?” 

“Just wrapping up now.” 

“Good. Then why don’t we meet somewhere more private before breakfast?” 

“Great. I’ll leave Int with you until then.” 

Sally-Anne sat down beside Int. She grabbed her pack and pulled out her work for the day. 

“Essay for Professor McGonagall, reading notes for Professor Moody.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Parvati staring at her. “Yes, Parvati, would you like something?” 

“Ever worry what you’ve got yourself into?” 

“I’ve got a dress that lets me breathe underwater, which literally saved my life last year. I’ve felt much better about everything since taking elocution lessons, which I’m sure my ribbon helps with. Rose has her faults, but she’s my friend. She’s done much better with following the rules lately, and if not for her, I doubt Neville would’ve survived the first task.” 

“Your ribbon just improves Charisma checks,” Intelligencer informed her. “The inherent bonus to Wisdom I gave you while you were sleeping a few months ago helps your lessons.” 

Sally-Anne took out her newly found frustration on her classwork. After cramming it into her pack, she glared at Intelligencer. 

“Rose, why do you insist on enchanting people in their sleep?” 

“Cos they squirm too much when they’re awake. When they’re sleeping, they’re denied their Dex bonus to AC.” 

“Why’d you give me a bonus to Wisdom? Why not Hermione?” 

“Cos you’re the responsible one. Brain wouldn’t be as much fun with an improved Wisdom score.” 

Sally-Anne didn’t know how to respond to that. 

_Now I know what Hermione feels like._

“Waiting for you outside.” 

He flew off down the stairs. Sally-Anne gave a shrug to Parvati before walking (because a lady didn’t run) after Intelligencer. She found Neville in the common room, along with some other students. Sally-Anne smiled politely as many of them (mostly boys) wished her a good morning. 

“Hello, Neville.” 

“Morning, Sally-Anne.” 

He bounced on the balls of his feet. His eyes darted towards any small movement in the room. 

“Afraid Rose is going to jump out and try to kill you?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Not today, no,” Neville said with a smile. He glanced at Intelligencer. The Homunculus had taken up a perch on Sally-Anne’s shoulder. “Good morning, Int.” 

“Salutations, Toad!” 

“I’ve got to get going,” Sally-Anne said. “Rose wanted to talk to me about something.” 

Neville smiled again. Sally-Anne turned and left the common room. Sure enough, Rose was waiting for her just outside. 

Rose motioned for her to follow. The two girls walked a ways, then found an empty classroom. 

“As our party’s face girl, it’s your responsibility to collect information from NPCs,” Rose said. 

Sally-Anne’s smile didn’t falter, despite her lack of understanding. Not for the first time that day, she longed for Hermione. 

“Professor Dumbledore needs information on the champions, but I’ve got other work to do. So, I’m assigning you to the task.” 

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” 

“Because I’ve got other work to do. Pay attention!” 

“Other work for which you needed an alibi?” 

Rose beamed, but said nothing. 

“What sort of information?” 

“Their friends. Well, their four closest friends.” 

“What about Neville?” 

Rose shook her head. 

“I’ve already got Toad down. I need Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor. Think you can handle it?” 

“Well–” 

“ _Kethé_. See you later, Princess!” 

Sally-Anne stared at the small cloud of rose petals as they fluttered to the floor. 

“I think she’s actually trying to drive us all mad.” 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Everything’s still going well. Everyone’s a lot nicer now that the first task is over and they all realize that Neville wouldn’t have put his name in the Goblet of Fire._

_As it turns out, Rose is involved with the tournament. I’m sorry Dad, but Mum wins your wager. Anyway, she’s asked me to find out what I can about the other three champions. I was hoping one of you would have some ideas on where I should start._

_Love,_

_Sally-Anne_

* * *

_Dear Sally-Anne,_

_Don’t worry. Your father and I have got loads of practice working people for information. The most important thing to remember is to never let them find out. If they do, don’t let it lead back to you. Only go through people you can trust; paying people off only works until someone makes a better offer._

_As I’m sure you know, people gossip all the time. Make sure to pay attention next time your roommate (Lavender?) goes on about who’s dating whom. If people offer the information freely, take it. Also, don’t be afraid to use your looks to your advantage, but be careful not to lead boys on too long. Some of them can get… never mind, you know._

_Anyway, here’s what I’ve found works for me._

Sally-Anne continued down the multipage letter – complete with labeled diagrams of facial expressions to practice – about how to work people for information. It worried Sally-Anne that her mum was prepared for the question. Either she’d had weeks to prepare, which would entail knowing the question beforehand, or she’d already been prepared, likely because it was part of her job. 

_Mum, what do you do that needs all this?_

_Most importantly, make sure you takes notes. Write down everything; any of it could be important later. For that, you’ll want to learn shorthand. Even if you don’t use it now (you will), it will serve you well in life later. It’s a good skill to learn._

_Love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. From Dad: Don’t worry, she’s scaring me too. Love you, Princess!_

“What’s all that?” Ginny asked. 

Sally-Anne glanced down at the term paper in front of her. 

“It’s a long story.” 

Ginny laughed. “Looks like it.” 

Sally-Anne smiled politely at her, then slipped the letter in her bag to review later. 

* * *

Her first free period that day was at noon when Ron went off to Muggle Studies. After Potions ended, she went to the library for somewhere peaceful she could read her mum’s attachment on shorthand. 

“What was all that?” Harry asked. 

“Promise you won’t tell?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Of course. You’ve kept my secrets.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and stopped herself from blushing. 

“Rose asked me to get information on the champions. I guess she needs it for one of the tasks.” 

“Why can’t she do it?” 

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to ask.” 

“That’s Rose for you. She never makes sense.” 

“I know what you mean. All morning it was ‘AC’ this and ‘Charisma mod’ that. She told me that she enchanted me in my sleep a few months ago.” 

“I’ll bet she didn’t give you warning.” 

“None at all. At least it was just my Wisdom. That’s kind of nice, actually. Me being wiser.” 

She smiled at Harry, hoping for a complement. Her quiet friend said nothing. She hid her embarrassment and continued. 

“Anyway, I asked Mum and Dad for help, and Mum sent me… well, you saw it. I think she might’ve gone a little overboard. Probably just something else she picked up.” 

“Can I help?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Since Rose keeps making me more observant, I’ve gotten good at noticing things people do.” 

“You’ve always been good at that.” 

“But… I don’t know, I guess I’ve gotten better. I can keep an eye on the champions, as best I can.” 

They stopped walking, and Harry closed his eyes. 

“I think Fleur sits with different people every day. I don’t think Krum talks much. Cedric’s easy; he’s usually with the Hufflepuffs, but I’ve never seen him with anyone else.” 

“Harry, that’s amazing!” 

Sally-Anne straightened herself up and regained her composure. She was thankful that Madame Walker hadn’t caught her. Outbursts weren’t ladylike. 

“Thank you, Harry.” 

“What are friends for?” 

_For reminding me that we’re still just friends._

Sally-Anne couldn’t let her disappointment show on her face; she knew Harry would pick up on it. He always did. 

“Of course, you can’t tell anyone about this,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I won’t.” 

They reached the library, and Harry bid her farewell. 

Sally-Anne watched Harry walk off. The thought of them working on a job together… it filled her with hope. Maybe he’d finally notice her. 

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but I think you’re in love with him.” 

Sally-Anne stifled a gasp. 

Taltria snickered. 

“I don’t know how I put up with you all summer. You’re worse than Rose.” 

“That’s because I’m based on her sister Alice.” 

Sally-Anne caught herself before rolling her eyes. 

“Don’t waste your time on him,” Taltria said. “There’s better out there for you.” 

Sally-Anne glanced back down the corridor where Harry left. Her heart sank when she thought about Harry. If only he’d notice her. 

“What if–” 

“What if you meet the perfect guy, then Lord Scarface decides you’re interesting? Mr. Perfect’s gonna be pretty upset about it.” 

Taltria raised her eyebrows, prompting Sally-Anne to think about it. 

“I don’t know. I…” 

“What would Alex say?” 

“I don’t know, but I know it’d make me feel better.” 

“Of course it would.” Taltria smiled at her. “Come on. You’ve got a job to do.” 

Sally-Anne returned the smile. 

“I suppose I have. Do you know when Rose wants the information?” 

“She needs it for the second task, but it’d be helpful to have it by next week.” 

“Next week?!” 

“Very ladylike. Well done.” 

Sally-Anne calmed herself down with a trick her dad had taught her. She emptied her mind, and returned to normal. He called it “reset”. Some of his friends did it before going on stage. 

“I think I can do that,” Sally-Anne said. “I’ll learn as I go.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

* * *

Sally-Anne descended the stairs from her room the next morning. Talking to Lavender had been easier than she’d thought. She’d suffered for it, but it was worth it. 

“What happened to you?” Harry asked when she reached the common room. 

“This was the price of information from Lavender,” Sally-Anne said, indicating her face. “It took forever to get anything useful out of that girl, but I prevailed. Cedric’s two best friends are Anthony and Herbert.” 

“The Hufflepuff Beaters?” Harry asked. 

“I suppose? Lavender says they hang out all the time in the common room. I don’t know from whom, but I’ll take what I can get.” She smiled at Harry. “What about you? Did you find anything else yesterday?” 

“No, nothing. Fleur and Krum are always around different people, and we only see them during meals. It’s hard to tell who their friends are.” 

“Let’s try Fleur next. I think the Beauxbatons students are nicer than Durmstrang.” 

“Sure.” 

Harry sounded as lost as she was. She couldn’t blame him. Rose had sprung a surprise task on both of them, and they didn’t have much time for it. How did Rose expect her to handle this? 

They walked for another minute before Sally-Anne spoke again. 

“You don’t think I look that bad in all this, do you?” 

“You look fine.” 

Sally-Anne brightened up. “Well, if Harry Potter thinks I look ‘fine’, then I’ll survive.” 

* * *

As it turned out, Fleur was a much greater challenge than Cedric. Sally-Anne spoke with several Beauxbatons students, many of whom were quite nice, but none of whom knew much more than she did about Fleur. She also learned that people didn’t ask as many questions as she’d thought they would when she randomly decided to sit with them. 

Fleur spent plenty of time around other students, but there were few that Sally-Anne or Harry saw around her often. She treated most of them the same, which usually included a nice smile, but not much else. Sally-Anne knew that look; she used the same one when she wanted to be nice and for whomever it was to leave her alone. 

She spent much of her weekend trying to get information on Fleur. Sunday morning, Sally-Anne caught a break. A girl she vaguely recognized sat across from her at the Gryffindor table. 

“I ’ope you don’t mind,” she said. “I heard you talking to some of zhe other girls, and I didn’t get a shance to say hello.” 

“Oh. I’m Sally-Anne Perks.” 

“Sophie Caron.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. How are you enjoying Hogwarts?” 

“Eet feels so… old.” 

“I know. It feels like a church, with cobwebs everywhere.” She looked at the girl again. “I thought Beauxbatons only brought students who were old enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament.” 

“Zhey did, but my older seester, Adele, came to join, so I visit. I wasn’t surprised when Fleur was shosen instead of her.” 

“Do you know her?” 

Sophie nodded. “I should think so. Adele’s one of her only friends.” 

“Sure?” 

“Very. People follow her because of her Veela blood. She says she can’t help it. I asked her once. I don’t see many people with her more than Adele or Michele.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and nodded to Harry and Ron. “Harry and Ron are two of my best friends. Rose, the girl with the dark red hair, is another one. I’ve also got this friend Hermione, but she’s only allowed here for the tasks.” 

“What happened?” 

“Lots of dreadful things happened the last few years, and then when Death Eaters attacked the Quidditch World Cup, her parents finally told her to stay home.” 

“I am sorry to hear zhat. Is she nice too?” 

“Yeah, she is. In a different sort of way than I am, but she’s nice. All my friends are, they’re just… different.” She smiled. “Just a bunch of misfits. What about you? What are your friends like?” 

Sophie shook her head. “I don’t have many friends. I am different too.” 

Sally-Anne nodded towards Luna at the Ravenclaw table. “Luna’s been different ever since I met her. My friend Hermione almost always has her nose in a book. Neville’s one of my friends too, and you saw him during the first task. And my friend Rose… she’s not from around here.” She nodded at Harry and Ron again. “Ron and Ginny are the most normal of us. That boy he’s talking to. That’s Harry Potter.” 

“My only friend is Gabrielle Delacour, and even she only spends time with me because her sister’s friends with mine. Everyone just sees me as zhe creepy bug girl.” 

Sally-Anne grimaced at the thought of bugs. 

“That’s the look most people give me.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 

“Everyone does.” 

Sally-Anne felt bad for Sophie. She looked dejected, like she believed no one wanted to be her friend. Like exactly the sort of person Sally-Anne was supposed to be helping. 

“Have you met Neville and Luna?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“No.” 

“Well, you’re about to.” Sally-Anne stood up. “Come with me. I think you’ll get along marvelously with them.” 

Sally-Anne led Sophie over to the Ravenclaw table where Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Melody were talking. 

“Hello, everyone,” Sally-Anne said. “This is Sophie. Neville, I think she’d enjoy hearing about what you saw in the forest.” 

“I deny everything. Everyone knows it’s out of bounds, and–” 

“Thank you, Rose,” Sally-Anne said flatly. “I know I heard you say something about spiders.” 

“Acromantulas,” Neville said. “There’s a nest of them. They’ve got control of the northeast section of the forest. Their territory nearly borders the centaurs.” 

“Zhere are acromantulas in your forest?!” 

Most people Sally-Anne knew would’ve found that horrifying, but Sophie had the same look of excitement Rose would’ve had. 

“Tons of them.” 

“Rose said she saw a bunch of spiders crawling out of Hogwarts two years ago,” Ginny said. “I wish Ron could’ve seen it. He hates them!” 

Sally-Anne sighed. 

“You two are going to drive your poor mother mad.” 

“I love studying zhe bugs at Beauxbatons. I think I’m zhe only one zhat doesn’t run away from cockroaches.” 

“Why would anyone run away from cockroaches?” Luna asked. 

_My job here is done,_ Sally-Anne thought. 

She glanced at Viktor Krum. As always, he sat with a different group of people. According to her sources, he hardly spoke a word. It made it much harder to tell who his friends were. 

_Well, he’s the last one I’ve got, and I’ve got all week to find out._

* * *

Friday morning found Sally-Anne in a slump. She’d failed to get anything on Krum. She could list off the top 10 people with whom Fleur associated most frequently thanks to her new friend Sophie. She knew Cedric’s two closest friends, and she figured he must be friends with the students in his Arithmancy class, given what Hermione had told her. Sally-Anne also noted that he seemed awful close to Hermione. 

That left Krum, about whom she knew little. He was the star of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, but apart from that, and whatever gossip she’d got, she knew nothing. No one knew who his friends were. It just seemed that everyone wanted to be his friend. 

Sally-Anne sat down in Ancient Runes. 

“Hey, Sally-Anne.” 

Sally-Anne turned and smiled at Max, Hannah, and Ellie. The Hufflepuff trio walked into Ancient Runes and took seats. 

“Good morning, everyone.” 

“While we’re here,” Max said, “I wanted to apologize for the way we treated you last month.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, we do,” Hannah said. “After seeing everyone out there… that was awful.” 

Ellie’s hands flew through sign language. Max jumped when he realized she was signing something. Ellie scowled then started over again. 

“I was right, it was too dangerous?” Sally-Anne asked, hoping she’d translated Ellie correctly. 

Ellie stopped. Her hands hung in the air, contorted in another expression. 

“You know sign language?” Max asked. 

“Daddy taught me,” Sally-Anne said. “Just another trick my parents know.” 

“She’s right,” Max said. “We were all just… erm…” 

“It’s fine.” 

Ellie frowned at Hannah. She tapped the other girl on her shoulder, then tapped her own wrist. 

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m not in this class.” Hannah smiled at Max. “See you later, Max.” She turned back to Sally-Anne. “Again, I’m–” 

“I accept your apology.” 

Hannah walked out of the classroom. 

“Why didn’t any of you say anything before?” Sally-Anne asked. “We just had Herbology together.” 

Ellie scowled at her. 

“I know why you didn’t, Ellie.” 

“You’re the nice one. With Ron around, no one gets a chance to say anything. And the way Rose is sometimes… she scares us a little.” 

“I know what you mean. I appreciate you talking to me, though.” 

“It’s hard not to. Everyone knows you by now.” 

Sally-Anne frowned. She hadn’t given herself away, had she? 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I could say the name ‘Sally-Anne Perks’ in almost any circle, and at least one person would know who I’m talking about.” 

“A lot of people know me from Hogwarts.” 

“It’s not just Hogwarts. Most of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang know you, too.” 

Professor Babbling started class and cut their conversation short. Sally-Anne spent much of class thinking about it. Had she really made new friends? 

She and Harry walked to Potions together. 

“Something occurred to me today,” Harry said. “We could’ve been using the map to check on them.” 

Sally-Anne hid her annoyance behind a smile. 

“Hello, Sally-Anne.” 

“Hello, Norman. If you’re still looking for something for Clarice, I hear there’s a lovely jeweler in Hogsmeade.” 

“ _Merci!_ ” 

Sally-Anne turned back to Harry. 

“Who was that?” 

“One of the Beauxbatons students. His six month anniversary’s coming up, and he wanted to get his girlfriend something to remember the tournament by.” 

Harry nodded, looking confused for no reason. 

Looking past him, Sally-Anne spotted Brett and Jonathon getting up to no good. 

“Careful, you two!” she called. “I don’t want to have to tell your cousin you’re getting into trouble.” 

Harry gave her another look. 

“What?” 

“How many people do you know now?” 

“Plenty. Perhaps we can use the map to find Krum and just talk to him.” 

“Let’s check after Potions.” 

Sally-Anne nodded. It felt good to know that their plan was falling into place. 

“Hello, Sally-Anne!” 

“Petar, good to see you feeling better!” 

Once again, Harry looked to her for an explanation. 

“Petar caught a cold yesterday. He and his friends needed help finding the Hospital Wing.” 

Harry started laughing as they entered the Dungeons. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You. You were saying this morning about how horrible you were at this. Now it’s like you know everyone.” 

“I suppose I do.” She smiled back at him. “Thank you, Harry. For all your help.” 

They sat through Potions with the others. Sally-Anne worked with Neville, since Rose was missing. 

“You’re looking well,” she said. 

“Thanks. Exercise and all that.” 

“Glad to hear it. And I’m glad you’re feeling better about the tournament.” 

* * *

After class, Sally-Anne and Harry snuck into an unused classroom. 

“Where is he?” 

“I’m looking… there. He’s hiding in the Library.” 

“Alone?” 

“Completely out of the way.” 

“Perfect.” 

Sally-Anne trekked out of the Dungeons and up a floor to the library. Sure enough, she found Krum hiding away in a corner. He’d used a book in front of his face as a disguise, reminding Sally-Anne a bit of Hermione. 

“There’s a secret passage out of here if you’re looking for a quick get away,” Sally-Anne whispered. 

Krum looked up at her from behind his camouflage. 

“It’s alright. I won’t tell anyone you’re here.” 

Krum narrowed his eyes. 

“You are friend of Longbottom’s, yes?” 

“Sally-Anne Perks.” She extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

He took a firm hold of her hand. 

“The pleasure is being mine.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and withdrew her hand. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” 

“Nothing would make me happier.” 

Sally-Anne’s smile broadened momentarily. 

_Success._


	14. A Pleasant Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an extra task is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Now that she owns Harry Potter, I doubt J.K. Rowling has difficulty finding a date to the ball.

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat. She reached for the towel she kept next to her bed and cleaned her face. When she was done, she rolled over and checked the clock on her floor. 

“Four o’clock,” she muttered. “Oh well, it’s not as if I need the rest.” 

It took her another minute to realize the clock didn’t belong on the floor. 

“Oh no!” Hermione scrambled out of bed. She lit up a pencil she found for some light, so she could see while she cleaned up. 

The clock wasn’t the only thing out of place. The contents of her desk were scattered around the room. 

“If Mum and Dad see this…” She shook her head. “Mustn’t think about that. It’ll be fine. They didn’t notice last time either.” 

“Last time” was a few days ago. As far as Hermione could tell, she was using magic in her sleep. 

“Why don’t they warn you about that?” she muttered. “Is it not a common problem?” 

“Redecorating?” 

Hermione jumped when she heard Rose’s voice. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I come bearing news!” she exclaimed. 

She beamed. Her enthusiasm served to counterbalance Hermione’s panic. 

“At four in the morning?” 

“I had a break.” 

Hermione decided she didn’t need to question Rose any further. 

“Fine, what is it?” 

Rose looked around at her room again. 

“Smithy!” 

Smithy began moving all of Hermione’s belongings back into place. 

Hermione settled back into her bed and tried to relax. 

“What news?” 

“Remember how I said there was something on the 25th?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s the Yule Ball.” 

“The what?” 

“It’s a dance. Open to fourth-years and older, although anyone can be invited. Starts at eight at night, comes with dinner, and we need to dress up.” Rose flipped open her notebook. “Yeah, that’s all. The champions are required to have a date, but you don’t need to worry about that.” 

Hermione nodded. She found her room more immediately interesting. She scanned the walls to ensure that she hadn’t done any permanent damage. 

“What about me?” she asked. “It’s not as if anyone can ask me.” 

“You’re a fourth-year, you don’t need to be invited. Just ask someone.” 

Hermione sighed. “Rose, in our world, men have got to ask out the woman.” 

“Why?” 

“It’s some sort of tradition.” Hermione rubbed her eyes. She was in no mood to translate her world for Rose. 

“What if you’re not interested in men?” 

“Who cares?!” 

Rose didn’t flinch at Hermione’s outburst. She took a seat beside Hermione on her bed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” 

Rose stared back at her in the dark. 

Hermione gave a sigh of defeat. “Alright, I’ve been having bad dreams. The last few times… I think it’s getting worse. I keep finding my room in a mess. Either Peeves followed me home…” 

“You’re casting in your sleep.” 

Hermione nodded. 

“My parents can’t know. If they knew, then… then they might not let me visit Hogwarts anymore.” 

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’ll pass. You’ve just got to give it time.” 

“You sound so grownup,” Hermione said. 

Rose made a face of disgust. Hermione laughed. 

The girls sat in silence a little longer. Hermione checked the clock. If she was right, the sun wouldn’t rise for almost four hours. 

“If no one asks you,” Rose said, “I’ll save you a dance.” 

It didn’t bother her that she’d get strange looks if she danced with Rose. It only mattered that she knew her friend had her back. 

“Thanks, Rose.” 

“You’re welcome, Brain.” 

* * *

At breakfast that morning, Harry stared at Cho. Her eyes, her hair, they were all so… perfect. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t. 

A quick jab to his side brought him back to reality. 

“What?” he hissed at Sally-Anne. 

“If you keep staring like that, she’s going to notice.” 

Harry looked back at Cho. He couldn’t help himself. 

“Have you asked her yet?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Of course not.” 

“Why not?” 

“Her friends are always with her. I can’t ask in front of them.” 

Sally-Anne glanced at Cho, then at Harry. He caught her eyes glancing at someone else, but couldn’t follow them in time to see at whom. 

“They’re not always with her. Every Tuesday and Thursday night, she goes to the Owlery to deliver a letter. She’s always alone then. Write a letter to Sirius and deliver it Tuesday night around eight o’clock. She’ll be there.” 

Harry smiled at Sally-Anne. He was so happy he could’ve kissed her. 

“Sally-Anne, you’re the best!” 

Sally-Anne returned to eating her food. 

“That’s what everyone tells me,” she said with a sigh. 

* * *

Neville had his own problems. Unlike Harry, he was required to have a date for the ball. He didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t, but he didn’t want to find out. After his exercises the next morning, he found Rose sitting on her own, reading a book. 

“Morning, Toad,” she said without looking round. 

“Hey, Rose.” He paused, trying desperately to think of something to say. “W-what brings you… here?” 

“Ref says there’s something you wanted to ask me.” She closed her book and looked at him. “What do you need?” 

There was something he wanted to ask her. His stomach hurt thinking about it, but he forced himself to continue. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. His face was hot. He felt like he was going to suffocate. 

“Will you go to the ball with me?” he blurted. 

All he could hear was the pounding of his heart. He slowly opened one eye, hoping to see Rose smiling, but instead, she was staring off into space. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m already going with someone else.” 

“Oh,” Neville said. “Okay.” 

He forced back tears and fought the urge to run away. Rose’s answer didn’t surprise him, but it still hurt. 

_Of course she’s going with someone else, you idiot! Why wouldn’t she be? She’s probably had tons of better guys after her!_

“Even if I weren’t, we can’t go together,” Rose said. “If we did, it would just confirm everyone’s suspicions that I let you past Taltria and Alavel.” 

“Who cares?!” Neville shouted. “Who cares what they think?!” 

“Professor Dumbledore.” 

“Right,” Neville said, the fight knocked out of him. “I’ll go now.” 

Neville turned around and ran before Rose could say anything. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Rose appearing in front of him didn’t startle him anymore. Surprised him, maybe, but not startled. 

“I didn’t say you could go!” she snapped. “I’m not done talking to you.” 

“What?” 

“I’m out of practice,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I danced, so I was hoping you’d practice with me.” 

A warmth replaced the sorrow and shame, and he smiled. 

“I… yeah,” he said. 

“ _Kethé_!” She reached into her picnic basket and took out a ring. “Take off your glove.” 

“What for?” 

“We’re not allowed to spend time during the day together, so I’m giving us time at night.” 

“Erm… Okay.” He didn’t understand, but obeyed nonetheless. 

Rose slipped the ring onto his finger. 

“Meet me at the Room of Requirement in a week.” 

She pointed at him in an attempt to mimic Sally-Anne, but it just looked adorable when Rose did it. Like a child trying to act like a grownup. 

“And I expect you to have a date by then,” she said. “No excuses. Remember, the worst they can do is laugh at you, and you survived that. There are plenty of people that’d love to go with you.” 

_No, there aren’t._

* * *

Harry waited until Tuesday. He held a hastily written letter to Sirius in his hand. Without another student in sight, he made his way to the Owlery. Nothing could stop him. With a spring in his step, he arrived. 

No one was there. 

Harry frowned at the empty Owlery. Cho was supposed to be there, wasn’t she? Had Sally-Anne lied to him? No, of course not, it was Sally-Anne; she didn’t know how to lie. Rather, she did, just never to him. 

He crammed the letter into his pack, no longer in the mood to send anything. Sally-Anne hadn’t lied, she’d just been wrong. 

Harry walked out of the Owlery and nearly ran straight into Cho. 

“H-hey, Cho.” 

“Hello, Harry.” 

She smiled at him and his heart soared. He stepped aside to allow her into the Owlery. 

“Sending a letter?” he asked. 

“Why else would I be here?” 

Harry blushed. “Of course.” 

_Stupid!_

Cho fastened her letter to an owl. It took a look at the letter, then flew off into the night sky. 

Harry opened his mouth to ask her, but he froze up. It could be his only chance; she’d think something was wrong with him if he showed up a second time. 

“Cho.” His mouth seemed to work on its own. “Will… will you go to the ball with me?” 

She frowned at him, and his heart sank. He knew her answer. 

“Someone else already asked me.” 

“Oh.” His face burned hotter than before. 

“I am sorry,” Cho said. “Really, I am.” 

“Of course.” Harry gave a half smile. “See you later.” 

He walked back to Gryffindor Tower in a daze. The corridors seemed to pass by at random. A few times he forgot where he was going. 

“Lord Scarface, is something the matter?” 

“Leave me alone, Alavel,” he said. He’d meant to snap at the Nimblewright, but he didn’t have it in him. 

“You look–” 

“I said leave me alone!” 

“Harry?” 

Sally-Anne emerged from behind the Nimblewright. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Harry shook his head, slowly at first, then faster. He couldn’t bear to say it. 

“Come on,” she said. She turned to Alavel. “Thank you for trying to help, Alavel.” 

Alavel nodded at her. After a quick look at Harry, he turned and walked down the corridor. 

“He’s not trying to help,” Harry said. “He never tries to help.” 

“He always tries to help, Harry, that’s what he does. I take it Cho turned you down?” 

Harry nodded. 

“I’m sorry.” She smiled at him. “Cheer up. There are other girls, and there’s no shame in going alone.” 

“It’s not just about the ball, it’s about her. If she’s going with someone else, then—” 

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, it just means someone else got there first. Someone else likes her, asked her out, and she liked him enough to say ‘yes’. That might mean she likes him, but I know she likes you.” 

“You do?” 

“Not for certain, but no girl in her right mind that knew you wouldn’t,” Sally-Anne said, smiling her sweet, kind smile. “You’re brilliant at defence, you can hit a moving target from at least 30 meters, you’re the best at Quidditch, and I’ve heard Professor McGonagall is all but singing praises of your teaching skills.” 

“What?” 

“Professor McGonagall? Stacy, the seventh-year prefect, was saying that Professor McGonagall talks about you all the time.” Sally-Anne motioned for him to follow her. “Come on. We’ve still got plenty of time before curfew. Why don’t we just sit and talk for a while?” 

He walked alongside Sally-Anne down the corridor. Harry didn’t feel much like talking, but Sally-Anne was different. He knew he’d feel better after talking to her; he always did. 

“I mean it,” Sally-Anne said. “You should talk to Professor McGonagall about what you’d need to do for a full-time job as a teacher. Classes you need, things like that.” 

“I’m only 14,” he said. 

“We need to worry about it next year,” she replied. “Alex says that’s when we really need to worry.” 

Harry forced a smile as Sally-Anne lead him into an empty classroom. He didn’t want to think about the rest of his life. He had enough to deal with, even with Neville holding everyone’s attention. 

They took seats, then she continued. 

“Have you told Sirius about it?” Sally-Anne asked. “Teaching, I mean, not Cho.” 

“Why should I?” Harry snapped. 

“Sirius isn’t trying to keep secrets from you. He’s just trying to look out for you.” 

“He’s hiding something from me!” Harry shouted. “I know he knows what those dreams are!” 

“He’s just worried about you.” 

“How would you know?” 

“He told me!” 

Harry stopped cold, his mind still processing her words. 

Sally-Anne was talking to Sirius behind his back. They were best friends, and she was talking to Sirius behind his back. 

“What?” he asked quietly. 

“Sirius was worried about you, so he wrote to me a few months back,” Sally-Anne said. “He’s trying, Harry! He—” 

“He’s just like everyone else!” Harry roared. “He doesn’t care about me! Everyone just wants to make my life miserable! That’s all there is! Why should he be any different?!” 

“Am I like that?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“You’ve been talking about me behind my back! No one cares what I think! Everyone’s happy to run my life without me! I thought Sirius would be better than that! I thought you would be better than that!” 

Harry lept off his chair and grabbed his pack. He wanted… no, he needed to be alone. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn’t have any friends. If Sally-Anne wasn’t his friend, no one was. Even Ron probably blabbed about him. There was no one he could trust, so he chose isolation. 

“Where are you going?” 

Harry opened his mouth to say something, then decided it was none of her business. 

“Please stop.” 

Harry didn’t know why, but something in her voice made him turn around. When he did, he saw Sally-Anne crying. 

“Why are you crying?” Harry demanded. 

“Because I know it hurts,” she sobbed. “I know you’re in so much pain, and it hurts me to see you like that. I wish I could help. All I want is to make the pain go away.” 

“You don’t understand,” Harry said. 

“Yes I do,” Sally-Anne said. “I haven’t a clue what my mum does. I’ve never known what she does. She could be unemployed for all I know. She works a lot, but never tells me what she’s doing. I don’t think my dad knows either. She’s kept a secret from me my whole life, Harry. All I know is she seems to know a lot, she’s good at collecting information, and she worked a lot until I was two. That’s it!” 

Harry couldn’t bring himself to move. Sally-Anne’s words hit their mark, and he felt… defeated. He felt as if everything he’d done and said up to that were all wrong. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said. 

He wanted to collapse, but there was something far more important that he had to do before anything else. He walked back to her, hauled her to her feet, then put his arms around her. 

“I hate it when you’re like that,” Sally-Anne sobbed softly. She didn’t return the hug, but let her head rest on his shoulder. 

“You can’t just fix me,” Harry said. “Who do you think you are, Rose?” 

“I don’t want to fix you, because you’re not broken. I just want you to be happy. That’s why I write back to Sirius to tell him how you’re doing. If you don’t want me to, I’ll stop, but please tell him something.” 

“I’ll… I’ll do something,” Harry said, not wanting to disagree with Sally-Anne. Harry hated making her upset. She was always so happy, and it filled Harry with hope. If Sally-Anne could be happy after everything she’d been through, maybe he could be happy, too. 

“And… please don’t shut me out,” Sally-Anne said. “Please don’t.” 

“I won’t shut you out. You’re my best friend. I can always talk to Ron about classes or Quidditch or whatever, but I know I can go to you with the hard stuff. I don’t even have to tell you when something’s bothering me, you just know. Even when something’s bothering you, you still talk to me.” 

He let Sally-Anne go, then sat back down in his chair. Harry spent a few minutes searching for the right words. He knew what he wanted to do, it was only a matter of finding the right words. 

“Dudley used to beat me up. Sometimes he was angry at something, but he usually just wanted a good laugh. If he broke one of his toys when no one was around, he’d blame it on me. Then Uncle Vernon would hit me.” 

“Oh, Harry.” 

Sally-Anne reached over and took his hand. 

“He started going at me with a cane, a belt, anything really. One time he grabbed my arm and pulled it so hard, something snapped. Never bothered to get it looked at.” He gave a small, sideways smile. “I guess Rose has done worse by now, and she’s fixed me up every time.” 

Sally-Anne tried to smile, but Harry knew it was just as fake as his own. 

“I came home from school one day with better marks than Dudley. They locked me in the cupboard for a few days to teach me not to cheat. I remember not understanding what I’d done wrong. I knew what cheating was, but I hadn’t done it. They wouldn’t listen, so I stopped arguing.” 

The words flowed out of him unrestrained once he started. He never wanted to stop. Harry realized that for the first time in his life, he had someone to whom he could tell everything. 

“It’s been horrible. It was like I was everyone’s punching bag. I thought there was something wrong with me, that I deserved it. But then I realized, if I just stayed quiet and did as I was told, then I’d be alright. I could pretend to be happy, because it was as if I didn’t exist. So that’s what I did. I just stopped talking.” 

“You never need to hold back from me,” Sally-Anne said. “And it’s okay to go for help now and then. It doesn’t mean you’re different, it means you’re just like everyone else.” Sally-Anne smiled. “You’ll always be special to me and Sirius. You’re my best friend and his godson. You’re still not the ‘The Famous Harry Potter’ or the boy-who-lived, you’re just Harry. To me, Harry is the most special boy I’ve ever met.” 

Harry smiled, glad that he could count on Sally-Anne. 

“Thanks.” 

“And… you’re telling me all this, so I want to tell you something.” She held up her pendant. “My pendant lets me read other peoples’ minds.” 

Harry stared at her, not sure how to take that. Her face said she was serious, and it made sense the more he thought about it. Sally-Anne always knew what was on other peoples’ minds. She didn’t guess, she knew. 

“So you’ve just been going through my thoughts all the time?” 

“It’s not like that. I’ve got to concentrate on you, and I only know what you’re actively thinking. I was always so worried about everyone, and I wanted to know how to help them. Rose made me this so I could. I promise I don’t make a habit of it. I can’t remember the last time I read your mind. Just in second year, I was so scared that something was happening to you, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that when I was just sitting by and doing nothing.” 

Harry turned Sally-Anne’s words over in his mind. He wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn’t find it in him. Not after everything they’d just said. 

“Promise you won’t do it again?” 

“I only do it if someone’s acting out of the ordinary, but I know you’ll just tell me eventually, so I don’t do it to you,” Sally-Anne said. “Please don’t be upset. I was afraid you’d start avoiding me if I told you about it before, and I couldn’t stand that.” 

Harry nodded. 

“I’m sorry about Cho, but it will all work out in the end.” 

Harry’s spirits sank as they returned to the topic of Cho. 

“Right.” 

“Perhaps there’s even an answer staring you in the face.” 

Harry gasped. “You’re right!” 

“I am?” 

“Rose! I bet she knows about my dreams!” 

For just a second, Sally-Anne looked downcast. It vanished just as soon as it appeared, but it stayed long enough to catch Harry’s attention. He quickly dismissed it. Sally-Anne liked helping him. She was probably upset that she hadn’t thought of asking Rose about Harry’s dreams first. 

For once, Harry wanted to help Sally-Anne. He put his arms around her. He was pretty sure it was Hermione that didn’t like hugs, not Sally-Anne. 

“Thanks, Sally-Anne. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.” 

He felt her arms around him. 

“I’m glad I could help,” she whispered. 

* * *

Like Harry and Neville, Ron had his own girl problems. A particular girl preoccupied his mind, but unlike his friends, he hadn’t asked her out yet. Also unlike his friends, he’d dismissed the idea of going to the ball altogether. He didn’t have to, nor did he think he really wanted to. 

“Ronald,” Sally-Anne said, “just the man I wanted to see.” 

“Huh?” 

She took his arm and dragged him to the Room of Requirement. Despite his questioning her motives, she refused to give him a straight answer until they reached the room. 

“Now that I’ve got you here, what are your plans for the ball?” she asked. 

“I’m not going.” 

Sally-Anne laughed. “We’re all going, in part to support Neville in whatever it is they’re going to make him do, in part because Rose isn’t giving us a choice in the matter.” 

“She can’t make me go!” 

Sally-Anne scowled at him. “Really?” 

“Really!” 

“She will physically drag you there, Ronald.” 

“Then—” 

“Break your legs.” 

Ron opened his mouth again to protest. Rose wasn’t above all that; she’d frozen him in amber their first year. What was to stop her from doing so again? 

“Now that we’ve got all that settled, what about your date?” 

Ron refused to answer her. He didn’t want or need to tell her what he’d been thinking about the past few days. 

“If we could hurry this up, I think Cedric wanted to talk to me about Hermione,” Sally-Anne said at last. 

_What did she say?!_

It was as if every voice in his head snapped to attention at once. Every mental thread converged on the same question. 

“What?” Ron asked. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sally-Anne said. She laughed. “Probably just wants to know how she’s doing. He is awfully fond of her, after all.” 

Her face lit up, but it wasn’t her usual smile. It was almost like a sneer. 

“Wouldn’t it be brilliant if he asked her to the ball over post?” 

Ron lost it. He was on his feet in an instant, glaring down at Sally-Anne. 

“What?!” Ron yelled. 

Sally-Anne remained unphased by his outburst, although her smile did vanish. 

“I know, it’s a bit much,” Sally-Anne said. “Still, they’d be so adorable together.” 

“Stop it! You can’t help him!” 

“Why not, Ronald?” Sally-Anne asked, her voice and demeanor cold enough to chill the fire next to them. 

“Because… because we should be supporting Neville, not Cedric! He’s—” 

“Wrong,” Sally-Anne said, her cold eyes staring directly into his. “Let me help you. Because you…” 

He didn’t want to say it out loud. Something about it felt… wrong. Like it would only be worse if he said it. 

“I already know what you’re going to say, Ronald, but if you don’t say it, I can’t help you,” Sally-Anne said. “I didn’t want to be hostile towards you, but I suppose I’ve already crossed that line by telling you that lie about Cedric.” 

Sally-Anne folded her arms and glared at him. She wasn’t going to let up, but Ron was stubborn. He could outlast her. 

“I’m leaving,” Sally-Anne said, getting out of her chair. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk.” 

Ron watched as Sally-Anne walked to the door. 

_Don’t say anything,_ he told himself. _You don’t need her help. This was all just a big mistake._

She stopped when she reached the door, her hand hovering over the knob. 

“I’m no good with logic; that’s your job. I am good with people, so I’ll tell you what’s going to happen if you don’t talk to me. What you need now is help with a girl. If you don’t accept my help, that girl’s going to find another date for the ball — because she’s amazing — and you’re going to find one at the last minute, if at all. Then, that poor girl that accompanies you will be treated to a night of you staring at the girl with whom you really want to go, because I know her and her friends, and she’ll look amazing. The two of you will get into a shouting match where you give some sad excuse like the one you gave just now. She’ll storm off in tears, then run right to her best friend. Her friend will probably wait out the night, then kill you in the morning. And if you’re very, very lucky, she’ll do it quickly.” 

“You don’t know anything!” Ron snapped. 

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t you wait here while I fetch Rose, and she’ll beat the truth out of you.” 

“She’ll just read my mind!” 

“She could just read your mind, but I’m quite certain she’ll like my way better. As I said, I’m good with people.” 

Ron had had enough. He ran for the door, but Sally-Anne stood in his way. 

“Would you like to know a secret?” she asked. 

“No.” 

“That was rhetorical.” 

Ron went for the door, but Sally-Anne cut him off. He punched the shield she created, then grit his teeth so she didn’t know how much it’d hurt. 

“I’ve been obsessed with a boy for years. No matter what I do, I can’t let him go. When the ball was announced, I thought it was my chance. I thought he’d finally see me, but I doubt he’s going to. You’ve still got the option to go with the girl you want to go with, so here’s my advice: man up and ask her before someone else does.” 

Ron and Sally-Anne stared back at one another. She knew what he’d wanted to say, and he knew it. He didn’t want to say anything, but there was no use denying it. 

“You’ve been off this year, Ron, and I think I know why. Wouldn’t you rather be happy again?” 

Ron looked away and mumbled something. 

“I’m sorry?” 

Ron mumbled his answer again. 

“Ronald!” 

“I like Hermione!” 

Sally-Anne’s demeanor changed from cross to excited in an instant. 

“That’s wonderful, Ron!” 

Ron wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he hated himself for saying it. It felt like he’d just admitted defeat. 

“I’m proud of you for telling me,” Sally-Anne said, “and for saying it out loud.” 

He still felt defeated, but in a way, Sally-Anne’s words made it feel like defeat was alright. Maybe he did like Hermione. Was that so bad? 

“What do I do?” he asked. 

“Hermione comes back Saturday morning, and I think you should ask her in person.” 

“What if someone asks her before then?” Ron asked. “Charlie said girls like her get snatched up quick, and I–” 

“It’ll be fine,” Sally-Anne said. “Trust me. I know who nearly every student is going with, or I can guess most of them. There aren’t that many boys interested in going out of their way to ask Hermione. You’ll need to ask her the moment she gets back, but apart from that, you should be fine.” 

There was something about the way Sally-Anne smiled that assured Ron he’d be alright. 

* * *

Finding Rose to ask about Harry’s dreams was easier said than done. She’d taken up the habit of vanishing after classes and not showing up to meals, so they rarely had a chance to ask her. Harry checked the map for her, but its results were unhelpful. 

“What’s she doing in the Quidditch Pitch?” Harry asked. 

“How should I know?” Sally-Anne replied. 

“You know everything else.” 

“I’ve got nothing about Rose.” Sally-Anne frowned. “Perhaps Taltria or Alavel would know.” 

Harry gave a look of disgust. “I’ll pass.” 

After Defence Against the Dark Arts on Thursday, Rose stuck around long enough for Sally-Anne to grab her. 

“Rose, can we borrow you for a second?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“What’s a second?” Rose asked. 

“Alright, can we borrow you for a round?” 

“Sure!” Rose exclaimed. “What do you two need?” 

Harry explained the dreams he’d been having. He told her about Voldemort and the man he couldn’t identify. When he finished describing the dreams, Rose stared at him blankly for a moment. 

“What did he look like?” Rose asked. 

“I dunno, tall, dark brown hair, kind of thin,” Harry said. 

Rose pulled out her sketchpad and flipped through it until she found a picture of a man. 

“Like this?” she asked, holding up the picture. 

“Exactly like that,” Harry said. “Where have you seen—” 

“You two, with me! We’re going to see Professor Dumbledore. Now!” 

“What?!” Harry exclaimed, looking to Sally-Anne for an answer. 

They exchanged confused looks before turning back to Rose. 

“Why?” Sally-Anne asked as they ran to keep up with Rose. 

“This is what I need,” Rose said, more excited than Harry had ever seen her. “Proof!” 

Rose led them straight to Professor Dumbledore’s office. According to her, she couldn’t _teleport_ them because she was supposed to refrain from doing so as much as possible. 

“Something about drawing attention,” she said. “Less talk, more run speed!” 

The gargoyle lept aside in fear the second it saw Rose, who pushed Sally-Anne and Harry up the steps. 

“What’s the rush?” Sally-Anne asked again. 

“You’ll see in a moment,” Rose said, banging on the door. 

“Yes?” came Professor Dumbledore’s voice. 

“I’ve got proof it was him!” 

“Rose, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” Professor Dumbledore said in a tone that didn’t fit Rose’s anxiety at all. “Do come in.” 

The door swung open to reveal Professor Dumbledore, who was joined by none other than the Minister of Magic himself. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, we’re—” 

“You said report to you the moment I found anything,” Rose said, pointing at Harry. “I found something.” 

“Minister Fudge and I were just discussing that,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“Rose, what’s going on?” Harry asked. 

“Professor Dumbledore was just telling me the most outlandish theory,” Fudge said. “Crouch’s son is dead, little girl.” 

“So was Peter Pettigrew!” Rose shot back. “Great job on—” 

“Rose!” Professor Dumbledore and Sally-Anne snapped. 

“Let’s all stop before we get carried away,” Dumbledore continued. “What is this proof you’ve got?” 

Rose pushed Harry forward. Harry glanced at Fudge, then at Dumbledore. He didn’t like the idea of talking with both of them present. 

“Tell him,” Rose said. 

Harry glanced back at Sally-Anne. Her smile gave him some reassurance. If she thought she knew what was going on, he figured she’d cover him if he messed up. 

“I’ve been having dreams, Professor,” Harry said. “Dreams about… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He’s talking with this man, but I don’t know who he is. Rose showed us this picture, and it’s the man from my dream.” 

Professor Dumbledore turned to Rose. 

“I take it this man is Barty Crouch, Jr.?” Professor Dumbledore asked. 

Rose triumphantly slammed her sketchpad onto Professor Dumbledore’s desk. 

“Did Ms. Peta-Lorrum coerce you into saying any of this?” Professor Dumbledore asked Harry. 

“No, Professor.” 

“Am I supposed to believe any of this?” Fudge asked. 

Rose growled at him for a split-second before Professor Dumbledore cut her off. 

“Ms. Perks, can you vouch for this?” 

“Harry told me about his dreams over the summer,” Sally-Anne said. “He told Sirius, Alavel, and Remus, too. They can all vouch for him. He tried describing the man before, and he sounded just like what Rose drew, although admittedly, a lot of people might look like that.” 

“You see, a coincidence,” Fudge said. “The girl is merely trying to shove blame off herself. Need I remind you how difficult relations with the other schools have been?” 

“I am aware, Cornelius, but unjustly blaming one person or another will not resolve the situation,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly. “Mr. Potter has a known link with the Dark Lord, and if he saw Junior in his dreams, then there is a possibility that Ms. Peta-Lorrum’s theory about him controlling his father is correct. I’m not asking to arrest him. In fact, I’d like this to be done as quietly as possible.” 

“Rose,” Sally-Anne hissed, motioning to their friend. 

Rose stepped back to put herself next to Sally-Anne. Harry tuned in to their conversation. He’d much rather be talking to them than stared down by the Minister of Magic. 

“Agree to give Fudge the credit,” she whispered. “You don’t care, and he does.” 

“If you’re wrong, Dumbledore, it could be a disaster!” Fudge was saying. “If word got out that we acted on the suspicions of a child, then–” 

“Don’t mention me at all,” Rose said. “If it goes wrong, Professor Dumbledore will take the blame. If it goes right, then you can take all the credit. You’ve literally got nothing to lose and everything to gain.” 

Fudge looked from Rose to Professor Dumbledore. 

“There’s no rush,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I will agree to what Ms. Peta-Lorrum suggested, but I recommend that we wait until after the Yule Ball. Preparation for the second task is as finished as it can be for now, and this is a lot to take in at once.” He addressed Fudge directly. “Come January, I would like to have Crouch dosed with veritaserum and interrogated. Everything will be done unofficially, off the record, and without Ms. Peta-Lorrum present.” 

“You’ve just told her everything!” Fudge exclaimed. “What if she—” 

“What if she what?” Professor Dumbledore asked. “She’s a young girl, Cornelius. In my youth, I was quite the talented, handsome young lad, but even I would’ve had trouble covering up a plot such as this. She can’t use the Imperius Curse herself, so there’s no harm in telling her anything. Or do you want me to dose her as well?” 

“Professor Snape will run all the way here if you tell him you’re going to do that,” Rose added. 

For a time, no one said anything. Harry hoped that someone would explain what was happening, but no one did. He exchanged glances with Sally-Anne. She was just as confused as he was. Did her pendant not work on Rose? 

“I’ll need to discuss this some more,” Fudge said finally. “This hardly seems like enough evidence to—” 

“People have been convicted on less,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I’m not asking to imprison him, I’m asking to interrogate him under veritaserum. That should work around the Imperius Curse, if he is indeed under it.” 

Fudge took one last look at Rose. “I’ll set it up.” 

“Thank you, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore said, then shot a look at Rose. 

“Thank you, Minister,” she said, curtsying. 

“I’ve got some owls to send,” Fudge said. He made his way to the exit, then stopped. 

“Mr. Potter, I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you.” He shook Harry’s hand. “And it is quite a pleasure.” 

“Erm… same,” Harry said. 

Fudge released Harry’s hand and turned to Sally-Anne. 

“And Ms. Perks, so good to see you feeling better than the last time we met.” 

“I’m flattered you remember me,” Sally-Anne replied. “It’s an honor to meet you properly, Minister.” 

“Likewise, I’m sure.” He turned back to Dumbledore. “Dumbledore.” 

“Minister.” 

He nodded to Rose before leaving, although Harry figured it was out of politeness than anything. 

“Rose, defending you is becoming a habit I’d quite like to break,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Harry, Sally-Anne, thank you both for your help.” 

“You’re welcome, Professor,” Sally-Anne said, curtsying. 

The three of them exited Professor Dumbledore’s office. After they’d descended the stairs, Harry turned to Rose. 

“What was that all about?” 

“Junior’s controlling Senior, who put Toad’s name in the Goblet of Fire,” Rose replied. “Long complicated plan, but we’re gonna stop it.” Out of nowhere, she hugged them both. “Thank you so much! I’ve been looking for proof it was him all week!” 

“How’d you know it was him?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“The goblet told me, of course,” Rose replied. 

“Of course.” 


	15. Try, Try Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ron is stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns Ronald Weasley no matter how bruised and bloody he is.

Ron woke up early Sunday morning. He’d hardly slept knowing Hermione would return in a few hours. He wanted to see her before anyone else had the chance to ask her. 

It didn’t take long for him to get ready. After he’d finished, he found Neville awake in their room. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Exercising.” 

Ron watched him for a few moments. “What for?” 

“To stay in shape for the tournament.” 

Ron made a sour face. It was always about the tournament with Neville. Not just Neville, but everyone. All anyone cared about was the tournament and the champions in the tournament. No one cared about school anymore. What was the point of getting good marks if it didn’t matter to anyone? 

He stepped around Neville and stormed off downstairs. Hermione always cared. She was the only one that cared how he did until he started taking Muggle Studies. Now he could talk to his dad about his job. Just like Hermione had said. 

Ron took out some work to do while he waited in the common room. He figured it’d look good if Hermione found him doing classwork. 

After 30 minutes, the only sound he’d heard was Neville jumping around in the stairwell. 

“How much longer?” Ron muttered. 

He glanced at the girls’ dorms. Where were they? Could he go up and check? Something about it felt wrong, but he recalled the girls being allowed in their rooms (according to Charlie, that was a gift that shouldn’t be squandered). 

Ron checked the clock again. Curfew ended in 10 minutes, and there was still no sign of Hermione or Rose. Had Rose forgotten? They’d hardly seen her all week. What if she had forgotten? 

“You’re up early.” 

Ron turned and saw Harry at the foot of their stairwell. 

“Just… thought I’d get some work done,” Ron said. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am not!” 

“Your voice sort of cracks when you lie,” Harry said. “Ginny’s does too.” 

“Does not!” 

“Fine.” 

Harry sat down next to him on the couch. 

“I always liked weekend mornings,” Harry said. “No one else around.” 

“Rose was supposed to be here with Hermione.” 

Ron crammed his work in his pack as hard as he could. The thought of shoving Rose inside with it and closing his pack crossed his mind. 

“Right, she comes back today.” 

Harry smiled, in direct opposition to Ron’s mood. 

“It’ll be nice to see her again.” 

Ron glared at him. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“It means I miss my friend.” He frowned. “What’s wrong with you today?” 

“I’m fine,” Ron said through gritted teeth. 

He and Harry sat without making eye contact for the next few minutes. Harry kept his gaze fixated on the clock. The moment it struck the end of curfew, he stood up. 

“I’m going to get breakfast. You coming?” 

“No.” 

Harry muttered something he couldn’t make out. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking aloud.” 

Harry left the common room. Being a Sunday, that left Ron alone until the rest of the students woke up. Fortunately for him, the first student down was Sally-Anne. 

“Good morning, Ron. I trust you slept well?” 

“Fine.” 

Sally-Anne’s smile vanished. “Is something the matter?” 

“Where’s Rose?” 

“Oh. I see.” Sally-Anne took a seat beside him where Harry had sat not 15 minutes ago. “She hasn’t arrived yet?” 

“She said she’d get Hermione this morning!” 

Ron glared at the fireplace. When he turned back to Sally-Anne, she was tapping her ear. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said softly. “There’s no need to be so angry.” 

“Doesn’t Rose realize other people want to see Hermione too?” 

“I’m… sure she does, but you know Rose is busy with the tasks. She’s got more to do than to cater to our whims, Ron.” 

“She promised!” 

“And I’m sure Hermione is just as anxious to get back as you are to see her.” 

“Everyone else is more important,” Ron muttered. 

“What was that, Ronald?” 

“Never mind,” he said. He got up from the couch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“None of your business!” 

Ron stormed out of the common room. He didn’t care if Hermione came back. It wasn’t like she was going to say “yes” even he did ask her. 

* * *

Neville paced around his room for a time. Rose’s deadline was almost up, and he was no closer to finding a date for the ball. Why did he have to be required to have one? Why did Rose have to be going with someone else? Most importantly, who was it? 

He happened to glance at the clock and saw that he could leave Gryffindor Tower. Neville grabbed his pack and made his way downstairs. 

He found one person in the common room. That was the upside of being an early riser: no one was up that early on a Sunday. 

“Good morning, Neville.” Sally-Anne was just as cheerful as she was any other time of the day. “Did you sleep well?” 

“I’m fine, but I think something’s bothering Ron.” 

“I know, he was just here.” 

Neville nodded. Some small part of him wanted to check on his friend, but the rest of him was too busy worrying about the ball. 

“Everything alright?” 

Neville looked around the common room, then tapped his ear. 

“Not really,” he said resignedly. “I’ve got to have a date to the ball, but… It’s not fair.” 

“Tell me about it,” she muttered. 

Neville knew he didn’t hear that right. How could Sally-Anne not have a date to the ball either? She was Sally-Anne! She had to be the most popular girl in Hogwarts. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Nothing. Isn’t there someone you want to go with? I’m sure any girl in school would be happy to have you as a date.” 

Neville shook his head. “I already asked… well…” 

“Rose?” 

Neville felt a pang of embarrassment. His face grew hot. 

“Erm…” 

“It’s alright. I know you like her, despite her… quirks.” 

“I guess I do, but… she’s going with someone else.” 

“What?” Sally-Anne’s sudden tone shift caught him off guard. “She’s going with someone? Who?” 

“I don’t know. I wish I did, but… it doesn’t matter.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at him. 

“Like I told Harry: Just because she’s going with someone else, doesn’t mean she can’t also like you.” 

“I guess, but… now I’ve got to have a date. I can’t just go alone.” 

“It’s alright, just ask someone.” 

An idea struck him, and he acted on it. 

“Sally-Anne, would–” 

“As flattered as I am that you’d ask me out of desperation, why not someone you’d like to go with instead? What about Sophie?” 

“Sophie’s nice, but… I don’t know, she’s just…” 

“Not Rose?” 

Neville found himself at a loss for words. 

“If you like Rose’s… personality, if you can call it that, why not Ginny? She still hasn’t got a date, considering she scares off half the boys that would ask her, and the other half can’t get past her brothers. Besides, I think you’d like her if you ever thought of girls apart from Rose.” 

“I don’t just think about her!” Neville protested. 

“I’m only saying, it might not be a good idea to pine away for her,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Thanks, Sally-Anne.” 

“It’s what I’m here for.” 

Neville turned to leave, then turned back to Sally-Anne. “What about you? Have you got someone?” 

“That’s a long story. The short version is not exactly.” 

He had heard her right. How was that possible? 

“That’s—” 

Before he could get to the bottom of it, two more students arrived. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Hermione said. “Dad wanted to go over the rules one more time.” 

“Weren’t you supposed to be here an hour ago?” Neville asked. 

Hermione glared at Rose. “Yes. I believe we were.” 

“It’s possible that I lost track of time,” Rose said simply. “I don’t know why you’re complaining! It’s not like anyone’s awake yet!” 

“Ron’s gone,” Sally-Anne said, “and if I know Harry, he left half an hour ago.” 

“Ron’s awake already?” Hermione asked. She glanced at the clock. “Really? He always slept in over the summer.” 

“Never mind that,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t we all go and get some breakfast?” 

* * *

Ron sat with Harry at the Gryffindor table. They were the only two Gryffindors down early. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were well represented, and even a few Slytherins were awake. Apparently, Gryffindor was the only house that believed in sleeping in over the weekend. 

“Do the other houses just hate sleep?” Ron asked. 

“Maybe they just want to eat breakfast,” Harry replied. “We probably all wake up early because we’re afraid of being attacked at any moment.” 

Ron tried to think of something else to do. If Hermione wasn’t going to show up, then he needed to find something else. What was there? 

“I hate that they cancelled Quidditch,” he said. “I mean, you’ve got the whole teaching thing, but—” 

“There’s not a lot of flying involved,” Harry said. “Not nearly as much as Quidditch anyway.” 

“This was gonna be my year, too!” 

Harry grinned at him. 

“Gonna replace Wood?” 

“Thinking about it,” Ron replied noncommittally. 

“Make sure you practice. Gryffindor only accepts the best.” 

Ron scowled at him. He was good enough to be on the team! Harry wasn’t one to talk; he’d been accepted during their first year. He’d never even heard of Quidditch! 

A distraction came in the form of more students entering the Great Hall. When Ron looked up, he saw his friends. 

Most importantly, he saw Hermione. 

His heart sped up. His mind went blank. Ron tried desperately to think of what he was going to say, but he got nothing. 

He watched Sally-Anne and Neville walk over to them and sit down. Hermione took a detour to the Hufflepuff table. 

_I should’ve known._

“Don’t worry,” Sally-Anne muttered, “he’s already got a date.” 

Ron stared at Hermione as she smiled and laughed with Cedric. A vortex of emotions swirled inside his head. He wanted her to sit with them, to leave Cedric alone. What was so special about Cedric, anyway? 

_He’s the star of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, he’s in first place in the tournament…_

His internal voice was right. He didn’t compare to Cedric, Neville, even Harry. 

_It doesn’t matter._

“Here she comes,” Sally-Anne whispered. 

Ron looked up and saw Hermione heading back to their table. He looked away when she sat down. 

“Hello, Ron. You’re up early.” 

Ron shrugged. 

“Quiet again?” she asked. “You hardly talked last time I was here.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeah. It was a little worrying, actually. Everything alright?” 

_You called me Mudblood!_

Ron froze again. If he opened his mouth, he’d screw it all up. Just like last time. 

“Fine,” he scoffed. 

Hermione turned her attention to Sally-Anne. The two talked about this or that for a time. Every so often, Sally-Anne would direct a question at Ron. When she did, he’d nod or mumble some response. 

When the mail came, an owl dropped a letter in front of Sally-Anne. It drew her attention, so Hermione turned hers to Neville. 

_Of course,_ Ron thought. _Everyone’s obsessed with Neville the Champion._

“Everything alright?” Harry asked Sally-Anne. 

Ron glanced at her. She frowned at her letter. 

“Fine,” she said. She tucked the letter into her pack. “It’s nothing to trouble any of you with.” 

Ron returned to his breakfast. He’d be just as good as Neville in the tournament. He was sure of it. Why did everyone think Neville was so special? 

_I’m just as good as he is,_ Ron thought. _And I’m going to prove it._

* * *

After breakfast, Sally-Anne wandered the corridors deep in thought. She didn’t need a date for the ball, but she still felt bad about sitting on potential matches for Harry. Alex’s letter that morning had only made things worse. 

_Dear Sally-Anne,_

_I’m disappointed in you. You’ve got three options, and you chose the worst of the three. If Harry’s looking for a date, suggest he ask you. It can just be as friends if you’re still nervous about telling him. Otherwise, point him in the direction of someone he’ll enjoy going with._

_Instead of owning up to your feelings, you took the coward’s way out and keep deflecting people from him. You think the Sorting Hat sorts you at random? You’re a Gryffindor! I know you can be brave, and this is embarrassing. You knew Cho was taken when you told him about her. That’s what I can’t believe. You sabotaged your own friend. I’ve seen a lot of sides of you, but selfish was never one of them._

_Own up to your feelings, or accept an offer from someone that won’t keep passing you by for another girl. It’s your choice, Princess. Either way, please tell me how it goes._

_Lots of Love,_

_Alex_

Sally-Anne read it over again. She hated herself, but didn’t know what else to do. 

She looked up when she heard voices ahead of her, but noticed another person in the corridor with her. As quietly as she could, Sally-Anne crept up behind her and gently tapped her shoulder. 

Ellie turned around and her eyes went wide. 

“ _It’s okay,_ ” Sally-Anne signed. “ _I won’t give you away._ ” 

Ellie glared at her. 

“ _I can hear just fine._ ” 

“ _So can Max and Hannah, so if I speak, they’ll know you’re here._ ” Sally-Anne nodded towards the empty corridor. “ _Want to talk about it?_ ” 

“ _No._ ” 

“ _There’s a boy I like that doesn’t realize I exist half the time either._ ” 

“ _Max knows I exist!_ ” 

Even though Ellie didn’t speak, Sally-Anne knew she would be screaming at her if she could. 

“ _The boy I like knows I exist too, but he’s not going to ask me to the ball either._ ” She nodded towards the corridor again. “ _Please?_ ” 

Ellie folded her arms and followed Sally-Anne. 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne whispered. “I’m sorry about Max, but these things happen. There are other boys.” 

“ _No, there aren’t. Other boys look at me like idiots. They can’t understand me._ ” 

“Of course.” 

“ _Besides, I hate dancing. It’s like holding hands or hugging; I just feel suffocated._ ” 

Sally-Anne nodded. “Of course, you can’t sign when you’re dancing.” 

“ _Obviously._ ” 

The answer occurred to Sally-Anne at that moment. The answer to her problem, Ellie’s problem, and Harry’s problem. A pain materialized inside her chest. A year ago, she’d have started crying. 

_It’s for the best._

“I… I know a boy who doesn’t have a date, and, most importantly, can read lips.” 

Ellie froze. The angry expression on her face vanished. 

“ _Really?_ ” 

“I can’t make any promises, but I’m sure he’d be happy to go with you.” 

“ _Really?_ ” 

“Really.” 

Ellie jumped up and down. She reminded Sally-Anne of Ginny when she was excited. 

“ _Thank you! Sally-Anne, you’re the best!_ ” 

“I… I try.” 

Sally-Anne started the long walk to Gryffindor Tower. She hoped she’d find Harry there. She didn’t know if she’d keep her resolve long enough if he wasn’t. 

* * *

After dinner, Ron snuck out of the castle. He took off across the grounds, keeping close to the Forbidden Forest so he wouldn’t attract attention. The sun was down, so no one would see him unless they were looking for him. A few minutes later, he arrived at the arena in which the first task had been held. 

He ran around the outside, ignoring the burning in his lungs. After the second time around, he confirmed that there were no entrances to the arena. 

“It could be open above,” he muttered. He looked up, but couldn’t see much in the dark. He risked getting caught if he used his wand to see, so he decided against it. 

_Don’t know how I’m going to see when I get in, but I’ll worry about that after I’ve got in._

Ron looked around, hoping for something helpful. He didn’t expect Rose would’ve left a sign saying “This way to get in”, pointing to a staircase, but he hoped. 

_Maybe I can propel myself over the top._

Ron fired a Scattering Hex at the ground. His hex flung him into the air. He tried to spin in midair, but couldn’t get himself around in time. 

_CRACK!_

He slammed into the side of the arena. His body bounced off, then he landed in a heap on the ground. 

“Ow,” he groaned. “That didn’t work.” 

Ron picked himself up, then assessed the situation again. 

_It’s harder than I thought to turn in midair._

He looked up and down the arena again. It was pointless; he couldn’t climb over, and he didn’t want to risk injuring himself too badly before he got in. 

“One more time,” he said. “I’ll try once more, then try something else.” 

Once again, Ron threw a Scattering Hex at the ground. This time, he was able to turn around in time and fire another one before he hit the wall. The second one sent him flying away from the arena, but still higher in the air. Ron twisted in midair again and fired another Scattering Hex. This one flung him back towards the arena, and gave him just enough time to grab the ledge. 

His hand slipped the moment he caught hold of it. Ron threw another Scattering Hex beneath his feet. He soared through the air, sailing over the wall. 

_I did it!_ He was so excited that he nearly whooped for joy. _I can’t believe it!_

As the top of the arena came into view, he realized that Rose had sealed it off. Worse yet, he was about to crash into it. 

_Crab apples!_

Ron braced himself to land on it, but instead of landing, he fell straight through it. 

“What?” He twisted and looked back up. “It wasn’t real?” 

He looked back down and saw faint outlines of the arena below him. 

“ _Arresto Momentum!_ ” 

He landed gently on the seats around the arena. He stood up and used his wand for some light. 

“Alright, then,” he said, feeling rather pleased with himself. “That wasn’t so bad.” 

Ron looked out into the arena. A lonely orb sat in the middle of the Triwizard Tournament emblem. Apart from the lack of people, it looked just like it had nearly a month ago. 

“Right.” He hopped over the edge again, then threw another spell to slow his descent. He stood up, then took aim at the orb. 

“ _Depulso!_ ” 

Nothing happened. 

“I suppose that would’ve been too easy.” 

Ron took a deep breath, then ran at the orb. 

The moment he touched the emblem, the field came to life. Just as it had before, cracks bled out from the orb, but he didn’t stop running. Boulders rose into the air and swirled around the orb. 

Ron clung to one of the boulders, then lept to another one. 

“This isn’t so—” 

A rock flew at him faster than he could see. It slammed into his head and sent him crashing into another boulder. 

Ron scrambled to his feet. A lightning bolt lit up the night as it lanced towards him. Ron dove out of the way, but more flying debris knocked him out of the way with ease. 

He struggled to climb to his feet. He looked around, but he had to squint to see in the dark. A light shone from below him. What was it? He couldn’t keep his head straight. Something warm ran down his arm. Had it always done that? 

“Where’s…” he started. “I’m missing… something.” He stood up, although something told him it was a bad idea. “What—” 

Another rock nailed him. He flew at another boulder. He bounced off it, then sank to the ground. Another boulder knocked him onto another, then another. He felt himself falling. 

“I’ll just… scatter hex…” 

He felt around for his wand. Then he realized what the light below him was. 

A rock flew into him and sent him flying out of the storm. It hurled him straight into the wall. 

“Ron!” 

He heard someone calling his name from miles away. The light from his wand grew faint. 

“Ron!” 

* * *

“Wake up!” Hermione wiped away tears. “Wake up!” 

She caught the light from Ron’s wand moving. Above it, she could faintly make out the shape of Rose retrieving the orb to reset the task. 

“It’s alright, Ron,” she sobbed. “It’s over. You’re alright.” 

Something warm and sticky spilled over her hands. The smell of iron filled her nostrils. 

“He’s bleeding!” She held him tighter. “We’ve got to help him!” 

“I’ve got him,” Rose said. 

Ron’s wand scampered up Rose’s leg and settled on her shoulder. 

“You’ve done enough!” Hermione shouted. “I swear to God, Rose, if he dies, I’ll never forgive you!” 

“I can heal him!” 

“Bring us to Madame Pomfrey!” 

“We’ll—” 

“I don’t care! Just do it!” 

Six seconds later, the light from the Hospital Wing nearly blinded her. Hermione switched off her night vision and ran over to one of the beds. 

“What’s going on?!” Madame Pomfrey shrieked. “What happened to him?!” 

“He snuck inside the first task!” Hermione sobbed. “Please, you’ve got to help him!” 

Pomfrey spared only a second to shout at one of the portraits. 

“Dumbledore! McGonagall! Now!” 

As the subject of the portrait ran out of his portrait, Madame Pomfrey ran over to Ron. 

Hermione sat on the bed next to Ron as Pomfrey worked on him. She held her legs tightly to her chest as she rocked gently on the bed. 

“No,” she whimpered. “No.” 

“What was he doing in there? How did he get in?” 

Hermione glared at Rose. 

“He must’ve gone over the top,” Rose said. “It was the only way in.” 

“Why didn’t you seal it off?!” Hermione screamed. 

“I didn’t have time!” Rose shot back. “I’ve got other things to do! I tossed an illusion on it so people wouldn’t bother!” 

There it was. Just like that morning, Rose decided that her problems were more important than anyone else’s. Now, that arrogance might’ve killed Ron. 

“My parents were right about you,” Hermione said darkly. 

She reached into her hair and unfastened her hair clip. It made her dizzy, but she didn’t care. Because of Rose, she might’ve lost one of her best friends. Even if it meant not being as clever as she wanted to be, she was ready to sever ties. 

“Brain.” 

For the first time, Hermione saw Rose sad, and she didn’t care. Not just that; Rose deserved it. 

“Do you even care?” Hermione asked. “Ron’s dying! But you don’t care do you? He’s only ever been ‘Cohort’ to you!” 

Hermione flung the hair clip at Rose. It bounced off her and clattered to the ground. 

“Just—” 

“Why doesn’t everyone calm down?” 

Hermione turned her attention to Professor Dumbledore as he entered the Hospital Wing. She turned her attention back to Ron a second later. 

He lay still on the bed. Madame Pomfrey had cleaned up most of the blood. Hermione strained her eyes looking for any sign of movement. 

“What happened?” Professor Dumbledore asked Rose. 

“I… He got into the first task.” 

“I thought I told you to seal it.” 

“I haven’t got time to sit there and cover the—” 

“Seal it.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice took on a menacing tone. “Now.” 

Rose picked up the hair clip, placed it on the bed next to Hermione, then vanished. 

“Poppy, how—” 

“What is it that needed my immediate attention?!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed. 

Hermione tuned them out as Professor Dumbledore informed her about what happened to Ron. 

“Ms. Granger, are you alright?” she asked. 

“No,” she said. More tears fell down her face. She sniffled, then Professor Dumbledore handed her a handkerchief. 

“I’m sure Ms. Peta-Lorrum didn’t mean for him to be hurt,” he said calmly. 

“No, she didn’t mean it.” Hermione blew her nose. “She just didn’t care.” 

Hermione curled up again after Professor Dumbledore banished the handkerchief. She watched Madame Pomfrey work on Ron. She hadn’t stopped, which probably meant he was still alive. 

“Poppy, how is he?” Dumbledore asked. 

“Alive,” she replied. “Fortunately, Ms. Granger got him to me in time. He’s got a severe concussion, but I’ve stopped most of the bleeding.” 

“Is he stable?” McGonagall asked. 

Madame Pomfrey didn’t answer. Hermione’s heart stopped. Was the worst not over? 

“Now he is.” 

Hermione let out a small laugh that sounded more to her like a whimper. 

“Ms. Granger, are you hurt?” McGonagall asked. 

Hermione shook her head. “Rose… she said someone had triggered the task. We hadn’t seen Ron since dinner, and it’s not like him to wander off like that.” She let out an involuntary sob. “I just knew it was him.” 

Professor Dumbledore conjured her another handkerchief, which she gladly accepted. 

“I believe some of your anger may be justified, but I don’t believe all of it is,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Is there something else on your mind?” 

_A little mudblood girl trying to be a hero._

Hermione held her legs tighter to her chest. She could already hear the screams. The same screams that haunted every dream she’d had for the past four months. 

“I just don’t want to lose anyone. I… I nearly lost him last year.” She blew her nose. “Twice.” 

“He’ll be alright,” Madame Pomfrey said. “He just needs time to heal. He’ll be back to telling me how to do my job in no time.” 

“See?” Professor Dumbledore sounded almost delighted. “Nothing to worry about.” He picked up the hair clip. “I believe you dropped this.” 

Hermione took the hair clip from him, but didn’t put it on. 

“I think we can handle things from here,” Dumbledore said to McGonagall. “I’ll make sure your students are alright.” 

McGonagall took one last look at Hermione and Ron before leaving the Hospital Wing. 

“Madame Pomfrey?” 

“Yes, Ms. Granger?” 

“Is it alright if I stay here tonight?” 

“That depends. Are you going to tell me how to do my job?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Good. Then you’re quite welcome to stay here.” 

Hermione nodded. She tried to smile, but it only made the tears worse. 

“Will you be alright if I leave?” Dumbledore asked. 

Hermione glanced at him, then looked back at Ron. He seemed peaceful, as if he were just asleep. 

“I’ll be alright once he wakes up.” 

“I see. If you need anything, let Dripty know.” 

Hermione nodded again. She felt her shoulder for her pack, and realized she’d forgotten it. 

“I could use my pack. I didn’t have time to grab it.” 

“I’ll see to it that he brings it.” 

Hermione smiled at him as he left. After he did, she returned to watching Ron. She didn’t move from her spot until long after Madame Pomfrey put out the lights in the Hospital Wing. 

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing Ron noticed. Everything hurt. 

He groaned and tried to get up. Where was he? It was dark. Was he still in the first task? 

“Ron!” 

Something moved in the dark and grabbed him. He tried to fight it, but his body hurt too much. 

“Stop squirming!” a familiar voice said. “It’s just me, you moron!” 

It couldn’t be. 

“Hermione?” 

“Who else would it be?” 

_Anyone else._

“Where are we?” 

He tried to see in the dark again, but he could only make out faint shapes. Something about it seemed familiar. 

“The Hospital Wing.” 

Hermione sat down beside him. 

“Did I do it?” he asked. “Did I beat the task?” 

Something hard hit his leg. Ron let out an involuntary yelp of pain. 

“Sorry!” Hermione gasped. “I’m so sorry!” 

“Why does everything hurt so much?” he asked. 

Hermione hit his leg again. 

“Ow!” 

“Good. I meant it that time.” 

“Did I make it or not?” 

“You nearly died, Ronald Weasley. Do you know how scared I was?!” 

Ron stopped for a moment. She was worried about him? What for? No one cared about him. The only attention anyone paid him was to remind him that everyone else was better than he was. 

“You… you were worried?” 

“Of course I was!” He heard her tears in her voice. “Just like I was scared I was going to lose you last year!” 

Ron knew he’d heard that wrong. He hadn’t done anything right last year. 

“Huh?” 

“What do you mean ‘huh’?” 

“When… when?” 

She hit him again. 

“When you were going to fall, you _gau halak_! I thought you were going to die!” 

“But… but I’d made you cry. Every time I open my stupid mouth. Didn’t you say that?” 

She hit him one more time. 

“Stop hitting me!” 

“Stop being stupid!” 

“I’m not being stupid!” 

“Of course you are! You’re always stupid!” She hit him again. “But you always make up for it. Eventually.” She placed her hand on his leg. “And you’re always there when I need you. So don’t you ever scare me like that again.” 

Ron couldn’t believe it. She still cared. Even after he’d hurt her, even after he’d failed to save her at the World Cup or against the boggart, she still cared. 

“Hermione?” 

“Ronald?” 

“Will… will you go to the ball with me?” 

Ron couldn’t believe the words had made it out of his mouth. He immediately wanted to pull them back and take it away. He wished he hadn’t asked. She was going to say no. 

“I’d love to, but on one condition.” 

“What?” 

“Promise me you’ll never try that task again.” 

Ron hesitated. He wanted to prove himself. He knew he was just as good as Neville and Cedric. If he couldn’t even beat the first task, how was he supposed to impress her? 

_You already did._

“I promise.” 

In that moment, beaten and bloody as he was, Ron was on top of the world. 


	16. A Moonlit Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Yule Ball happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns the Yule Ball.

Sally-Anne finished brushing Hermione’s hair. “How’s this?” 

“I don’t know why it matters. If Ron wanted someone pretty, he’d have asked someone else.” 

“I don’t know. Some boys find frizzy hair attractive.” 

Hermione glowered at Sally-Anne through the mirror in front of them. 

“I think you look lovely,” Sally-Anne said. “Like I told Ron, you’ll look amazing.” 

“Context?” 

“My part of trying to convince him to ask you.” 

Hermione smiled. She wasn’t sure if she was happy to have been asked, or happy to go with Ron. Either way, she was happy, and that was something. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Sally-Anne looked over Hermione’s hair again. “It would look better if you’d let me add your hair clip.” 

“No. I’m not putting it back in until Rose apologizes for nearly getting Ron killed.” 

“And you really think that will work?” 

“Eventually.” 

Sally-Anne sighed. “You’re certainly as stubborn as he is.” She held up Hermione’s hand. “What’s your ring doing on your finger?” 

“I’m cross with her,” Hermione said, pulling her hand away, “but not that cross. She’s still my friend, I just want her to know I’m annoyed.” 

“She’s been hiding from us all week,” Sally-Anne said. She moved to her own bed and picked up her necklace. “I should think she knows by now.” 

Hermione moved to let Sally-Anne adjust her necklace in the mirror. 

“Besides, the dress Rose made me is lovely. It’s hard to stay mad at someone that works so hard for us.” 

“That’s the problem. She’s been ignoring us for the work on the tournament.” 

“You’re right about the problem, but I think you’re wrong about the solution. You can talk to her family any time you want. I don’t understand why you don’t. Otherwise, you’ll just be sitting in a corner, pouting, waiting for a response that’s never coming. Her family’s had years of practice dealing with her. The nice one… I forget her name, but she must have some idea.” 

“Carolina?” 

“Her, or her uncle. He sounds nice.” 

Hermione glanced at her pack. It felt weird not having the _condition conch_ on her, but without pockets, she didn’t have a choice. Why didn’t girls get pockets? 

“Think about it,” Sally-Anne said. “I’ve got to get going. Don’t leave him waiting too long, and don’t get into any trouble.” 

Hermione smirked. “What if it finds me?” 

“My mum says shout ‘fire’. At the very least, you’ll get Ginny’s attention.” 

Hermione sat on her bed after Sally-Anne left. She didn’t like leaving her pack behind, but she couldn’t bring it, not to the ball. Besides, she wouldn’t need it. Not unless they got into trouble, which was more likely to happen than not. 

She glanced at her pack again. It wouldn’t take long, would it? She could just grab the _conch_ , ask Carolina or Ozerl about Rose, and she’d be done. Time during the day seemed to be the same in their world as it was in hers, so they probably wouldn’t be busy. 

Hermione reached into her pack and pulled out the _condition conch_. 

<Professor Ozerl. Can you hear me? Eom.>

<Ms. Granger, I believe you’ve got a ball to attend.>

Hermione blushed and became thankful that no one could see her. 

<I just had a quick—>

<You’d like to know about how to deal with Rose, I presume?>

_She wasn’t kidding. He does know everything._

Hermione stared in awe at him through the _conch_. 

<Yes, Professor.>

<Reflectesalon is taking care of it. I expect she’ll apologize to you by the end of the night. Now, don’t keep Mr. Weasley waiting.>

<Does Rose tell you all this, or do you just know things?>

<Ms. Granger, if I told you, it’d take all the mystery out of it. Have a good night.>

<Good night.>

Hermione dropped the _conch_ back into her pack. Her head spun with what had just happened. She’d just talked to Rose’s uncle, who actually knew everything. 

She opted not to put her hair clip on. If she kept it off, there was a chance that she’d keep her head together. 

Hermione descended the stairs to the common room and found Ron waiting for her. He stared at her as she came down. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Good evening to you too, Ron.” 

“You… erm… you… You look nice!” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, a smile on her face, “so do you.” She motioned to the portal. “Shall we?” 

They walked together in mostly awkward silence to the ground floor. When they got there, they met up with Neville and Ginny. They also heard a familiar voice. 

“Don’t you look beautiful?” 

Hermione turned and smiled when she saw a welcomed face. 

“Alex!” She hugged her former prefect. “What are you doing here?” 

“Chaperoning,” she replied. “Sally-Anne told me about it, and I offered to help chaperon the students. Professor McGonagall said she’d be delighted to have me helping.” She turned to Ron. “Good evening, Ron. You’re looking very handsome.” 

“Thanks,” he replied, fidgeting with his tie again. 

“Would you stop?” Hermione asked, slapping his hands away again and fixing it. “Sally-Anne had it perfect earlier.” 

“It feels too tight,” he said. 

“Hold still,” Alex said. She adjusted his tie and loosened it just a bit. “There. Better?” 

“Loads,” Ron said. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” She looked past them at Neville and Ginny. “Good evening you two.” 

“Hey, Alex,” Neville said. 

“Have any of you seen Sally-Anne?” Alex asked. 

“She came down ahead of us,” Hermione said. “Do you know who’s taking her?” 

“She swore me to secrecy,” Alex said. “Wait a few minutes, I’m sure you’ll find out.” She smiled at them. “Are you two together, or just keeping each other out of trouble?” 

“Together,” Hermione said. 

Alex’s smile broadened for a moment. “Well, you four enjoy your night.” She looked past them. “Good evening, Professor McGonagall. Don’t you look lovely?” 

“Thank you, Ms. Nertlyn.” She approached them and directed her attention at Neville and Ginny. “Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Weasley, please follow me. The rest of you may enter the Great Hall.” 

Neville and Ginny left with Professor McGonagall, and Alex bid them a good evening, leaving Ron and Hermione alone. Hermione glanced around, hoping to spot Harry, Ellie, or Sally-Anne. After seeing none of them, she turned to Ron. 

“Shall we go inside?” 

Ron shrugged. 

“Thanks.” Hermione laughed in spite of herself. “Come on.” 

Instead of the long tables that usually occupied the Great Hall, there were several smaller round tables. The teachers’ table stood at its usual place, although Hermione spotted several teachers at one of the larger round tables. 

They joined Harry and Ellie at one of the smaller tables, which was otherwise empty. Ron took a seat beside Harry, while Hermione sat next to Ron. 

“I hope you two don’t mind,” Hermione said. 

“We’re saving them for the rest of you,” Harry said. “I don’t know where Rose or Sally-Anne are.” 

“Professor McGonagall took Neville and Ginny,” Hermione said. She glanced up at the teachers’ table. “I think the champions are sitting at the teachers’ table.” 

Ellie signed something to Harry. 

“Ellie says there wouldn’t be enough room here,” Harry said. 

Hermione did a quick count of the seats. “She’s right. Just eight. And that’s assuming Rose even shows up.” 

“Sally-Anne said she had a date,” Harry said. 

“What?!” Ron exclaimed. “Rose?! Rose Peta-Lorrum?!” 

“Yes, that Rose,” Hermione said, frowning. “That’s news to me, though.” 

Before anyone could investigate further, Professor Dumbledore stood up and addressed everyone. 

“If everyone could find their seats, then promptly remove yourselves from them!” he called. “We’re going to begin with the announcement of the champions!” 

A brief wave of murmuring filled the Great Hall as everyone stood up. 

“Presenting, from Hogwarts, Mr. Cedric Diggory, and his date, Ms. Cho Chang!” 

Applause filled the Great Hall as Cedric and Cho entered. Hermione stopped for a moment and stared at them. They looked so perfect together. Some part of her wished Cedric had chosen her instead of Cho. 

She glanced at Ron. He smiled awkwardly at her. She smiled back. She was happy to be with him, no matter what she felt for anyone else. Some small part of her told her she should be thankful for that. 

“From Durmstrang, Mr. Viktor Krum, and his date, Ms. Sally-Anne Perks!” 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all stared at Sally-Anne as Krum escorted her to the head table. 

“She’s with Krum?” Hermione hissed to Ron. 

“I guess,” he said, evidently just as confused as she was. She stole a glance at Harry. They exchanged confused glances before turning back to the champions. 

“From Beauxbatons, Ms. Fleur Delacour, and her date, Mr. Roger Davies!” 

Hermione watched them walk to join the other champions, but quickly turned her attention back to Sally-Anne and Krum. She couldn’t believe it; Sally-Anne had been so secretive about her date, and now she knew why. 

“From Hogwarts, Mr. Neville Longbottom and his date, Ms. Ginevra Weasley!” 

Unlike during the first task, everyone applauded Neville’s entrance. Hermione was glad to see that some things had changed since she’d last been at Hogwarts. Once he reached the table, the champions all took their seats. 

“Now, let the feast begin!” Professor Dumbledore called. 

Food appeared on their plates. The clattering of forks and knives filled the Great Hall, followed by a rise of conversation. 

Someone tapped Hermione’s shoulder. She turned her head and found none other than Rose standing next to her. 

“Is it alright if we join you?” 

Hermione turned around and saw another girl standing beside Rose. The other appeared to be just as pale as Rose, accented by her black hair and dark circles around her eyes. A few of her fingers were wrapped around Rose’s. 

“Go ahead,” Harry said. “We’ve got plenty of space.” 

Rose smiled at him, but turned her attention to Hermione. 

“Brain?” 

“Fine.” 

“Thanks.” 

The two girls took seats at their table. 

“Everyone, this is Sylvia Tilshnery.” Rose motioned to her friend. “Sylvia, this is Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ellie.” 

“Pleasure,” Sylvia said. 

Hermione eyed the both of them. “Sylvia” gave her a bad feeling. 

“Where’d Rose find you?” she asked. 

“Diagon Alley,” Sylvia replied. 

“She was shopping with her parents, and I was there with Moon and her dad,” Rose said. “We started talking when I found her hiding in the place with all the books. The one where we met Goldilocks.” 

“Flourish and Blotts?” Ron asked. 

“That one.” 

“Why were you hiding?” Hermione asked. 

“My parents only want me reading the books they preapprove,” Sylvia replied. “Unapproved books include most fiction novels, anything teaching advanced magic—” 

“Hold on,” Hermione said, “probably should’ve opened with this, but you’re obviously not a Muggle-born.” 

“Pureblood,” Sylvia said. “My parents home-school me.” 

“If you stretch the definition of ‘school’,” Rose added. 

“More of preparation to please the man I’m to marry,” Sylvia said. “Using magic to cook, clean, sew, tend a house, that sort of thing.” 

“And yet, they let you come here,” Hermione said. “With Rose, who is arguably a girl.” 

Rose stuck her tongue out at Hermione. 

“Rose said she took care of it.” 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Rose. 

“How?” 

“That’s for me to know, and the DMLE never to find out!” Rose declared. 

“Uh huh.” A picture formed in Hermione’s head. She became certain she knew who this girl really was. 

“Rose, does your girlfriend know you’re here with another girl?” 

“First, Halflings believe that exclusive relationships are unhealthy for the commune. Second, she does, and she says have fun. Third, ‘girlfriend’ isn’t a good word for it. We prefer _dereeroyl_ , which is Halfling for ‘sister eternal’ or ‘brother eternal’.” 

“Dairy royal?” Hermione asked. 

“No, _dereeroyl_ ,” Rose corrected. “If you don’t swallow your tongue when you say it, you’re not pronouncing it right.” 

“The Halfling’s Shadow, yes?” Sylvia asked. 

“Yup!” Rose beamed. “I’m proud that you know that!” 

“How much do you know about Rose?” Hermione asked. 

“Plenty.” 

“Oh, and Ali says if you mistreat me, she’ll slice you like a tomato.” 

“She’s welcome to try.” 

Hermione didn’t get much more out of “Sylvia”, nor Rose, compared to how much she normally talked. She took the time to look around the Great Hall. The ceiling was a clear, moonlit sky, and snow gently drifted down around them. The normal assortment of floating candles adorned the hall. Hermione smiled at it. She didn’t know why, but everything seemed so much better than usual. 

They made more idle talk for nearly an hour before Professor Dumbledore announced that dancing would start. Each champion and his or her date walked onto the dance floor, and students rose from their seats to crowd around and watch. As they did, several people none of them recognized took up places on a stage that wasn’t there a moment ago. 

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked as the people started playing. 

“The Weird Sisters,” Ron replied. 

“Only cos Professor Dumbledore rejected every other idea of mine,” Rose added. 

“I don’t see a problem,” Hermione said. 

“You’ll hear it before you see it.” 

Hermione watched Neville and Ginny, forcing herself not to look at Cedric and Cho. Ginny’s dress glowed like the last embers of a campfire as she and Neville drifted effortlessly across the dance floor. 

“Rose, when you made Ginny’s dress, did you ask her what she wanted, or did you just make a dress that looks like fire?” Hermione whispered. 

“She wanted it made of fire,” Rose replied. 

“I blame you,” Ron said. 

“I’ll take fire Ginny over panicky Ginny any day,” Harry said. 

The music stopped and the audience applauded. After each dancer bowed or curtsied (and Ginny nearly fell over trying), Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall took to the floor and the music began again. After a few seconds, Madame Maxime and Hagrid joined them, followed by Professors Karkaroff and Sprout a few seconds after that. 

“Why Professor Sprout?” Hermione asked. 

“Second highest ranking female,” Rose explained. “Professor Hagrid volunteered to escort Madame Maxime on the grounds that he’s the only one tall enough.” 

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Rose and nodded. 

“Here we go,” Rose said, taking Sylvia’s hand. “Ready?” 

“If I must.” 

_I see why she likes her,_ Hermione thought as the girls walked onto the dance floor. _She’s just as gloomy as Professor Snape._

Hermione waited for the inevitable burst of whispers from the crowd, but none came. People seemed content to watch two girls dancing. 

_Maybe it’s not a big deal here._

Sally-Anne and Krum returned to the dance floor. Cedric and Cho joined them not long after, followed by more and more couples. 

Hermione turned to Ron. “Come on.” 

She took Ron’s hand, and his stomach nearly lept from his body. His heart made its beating known once again as he and Hermione walked onto the dance floor, followed shortly by Harry and Ellie. 

Ron concentrated on his feet, trying not to step on Hermione’s. His endeavor was harmed by him getting distracted by Hermione. Her hands felt delicate in his, making him want to hold on all the more, and her face glistened in the light cast by the candles that floated around the room. He stared into her eyes, behind which lay a brilliance that no one could match. 

After the band finished, they switched from ballroom music to concert music. Hermione covered her ears as she and Ron left the dance floor. 

“I think I see what she meant!” Hermione nodded towards Rose as she and Sylvia left the Great Hall. 

“What now?” Ron asked. 

“I don’t know! We sit and chat, I guess.” 

“I told Neville I’d need my bag!” Ron said. “We could’ve played chess.” 

“With this noise, that’d make a decent challenge,” Hermione said, smiling. 

She glanced over and saw Harry and Ellie silently conversing. 

“I’m not sure I remember the last time I saw Harry smile,” Hermione said. 

“Sally-Anne says he does all the time,” Ron said. 

“Did you know she was going with Krum?” 

“She never said.” 

Hermione glanced at the dance floor. For the first time all night, she wasn’t worried about staring at Cedric. She was glad he hadn’t asked her, because she was honestly glad to be with Ron. It wasn’t always easy to see, but he cared about her. He was lousy at showing it, but he did care about her. 

For nearly half an hour, the two of them sat and talked. Ron told her about Muggle Studies and Care for Magical Creatures, and Hermione told him about everything she’d learned while studying at home. They were in the middle of a game of mental chess when another couple joined them. 

“What are you two doing hiding in a corner?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Sh!” Ron hissed. “I’ve nearly got her. Bishop captures C3.” 

“Are… are you two playing chess in your head?” 

“Is this English custom?” Krum asked. 

“No, it’s a Ron and Hermione custom,” she said, sighing. 

“Rook captures C3,” Hermione said. 

“Ha! Knight to B2! Checkmate!” 

“I’m not sure if this is odd or adorable, but I’m going to be telling someone’s relatives about it,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Good game,” Hermione said as they shook hands. “Princess! How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough,” she said, laughing. “Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, meet Viktor Krum.” 

“It is pleasure,” Krum said, bowing. “Princess is telling me much about strange friends.” 

“Strange is certainly a word I’d use,” Sally-Anne said. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hermione said. “You never said you were going with Krum!” 

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” Sally-Anne said as she and Krum took seats. “Who’s that with Rose?” 

“She calls herself Sylvia, although I’m not convinced that’s her real name.” Hermione glanced back at the entrance. “Did you see Alex?” 

“We saw her when we came back in,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Alex is one that is protective like mother bear, yes?” Krum asked. 

“That would be her,” Sally-Anne said. 

Hermione nudged Ron, who was staring at Krum. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Stop staring,” she whispered. 

“What about Harry and Ellie?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Last I saw they were sitting off to the side mouthing away to each other,” Hermione said. “Harry can understand sign language, apparently.” 

“No, he can read lips,” Sally-Anne said. “I’m the one that got them together. It’s hard for Ellie to communicate with anyone, but not Harry.” 

Hermione smiled at her. 

“I’m proud of you, Princess.” 

“Thank you. Now, if you would only follow my example, we’d be lovely.” 

“What?” Hermione glanced at Ron, who had already started talking to Krum about Quidditch. “I’m not—” 

“I don’t mean with him, I mean Rose.” 

Sally-Anne eyed her expectantly. Hermione just glared at her. 

“I haven’t got a problem with Rose!” 

“Really? She brings another girl, and the first thing you think is that she isn’t giving her real name.” 

“Come on! Rose hasn’t got friends apart from us! Sylvia doesn’t go here!” 

“Where did Rose say they met?” 

“Diagon Alley, but—” 

“They just met, Hermione. Rose made a new friend, and you’re jealous.” 

“I am not! That’s ridiculous!” 

“You’re jealous because someone else might know her better than you.” 

Hermione wanted to scream at Sally-Anne. She wanted to tell her who Sylvia really was. She’d worked it all out, and come to the conclusion that “Sylvia” was Shadow. 

It all made sense. The gloomy nature, her intimate knowledge of Rose’s world, even her apparent dislike of touching anyone, even Rose. They’d danced together, but why else bring her? She didn’t know where the story about them meeting came from, but she vaguely remembered something about them meeting in Sentrum, which was their equivalent of Diagon Alley. 

“Are you two planning on spending the evening playing chess, or were you planning on dancing again?” 

Sally-Anne snapped Hermione out of her thoughts. It was challenging thinking without her hair clip. At least, it took longer to think. 

“We were killing time until the band plays songs to which we can dance,” Hermione said, “and not just banging on their instruments for fun.” 

The band finished their song and began a slower, quieter one. 

“Right on cue,” Sally-Anne said. 

Krum stood up from his chair and offered his hand to Sally-Anne, clearing his throat. 

“ _If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this–_ ” 

“ _My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._ ” Sally-Anne finished. “That’s _Romeo and Juliet_!” 

She climbed to her feet staring at Krum. 

“Took weeks to memorize, but I was promised it would make you smile.” 

“Never mind smile,” Hermione said, standing up. “She’s gonna swoon.” 

Krum led a still shocked Sally-Anne to the dance floor, leaving Ron and Hermione on their own. 

“Well,” Hermione said. “Krum set the bar. Think you can match it?” 

Ron panicked, desperately searching his head for something to say. 

“Don’t look so frightened, I was only teasing!” 

Hermione took his hand and again, he felt as if he’d be ill. It hurt, but it felt good at the same time. 

“You could at least say ‘May I have this dance?’” Hermione said. 

Ron pulled himself together and moved in front of Hermione. 

“May I have this dance… fair maiden?” he asked, doing his best impression of Sally-Anne. 

“I’d be honored,” Hermione replied, laughing. 

As the band played softly, the two walked back onto the dance floor. Hermione placed her hands on Ron’s shoulders, and he shakily put his on her waste. 

As they rocked back and forth, Hermione moved in closer. Ron looked into her eyes again and smiled. After everything he’d been through, all the worrying and panic, being with Hermione like that made everything worth it. 

“Thanks for asking me to the ball, Ron,” Hermione said. 

“Thanks for saying ‘yes’,” Ron replied. “I guess it’s a good thing I tried that task, huh?” 

Hermione frowned. “What did you say?” 

Ron felt a pain in his stomach. “I… Erm…” 

“I told you how worried I was. I… I thought you were going to die, and here you are, saying it was a good thing?” 

She pulled away from him. 

“Hermione—” 

“I just need some air.” 

Without another word, she ran out of the Great Hall, desperate to get away from everything and everyone. Hermione ran straight to the entrance hall, ignoring everyone on her way. 

“Hermione?” Alex asked as she ran past. “Is ev–” 

“I just need some air,” Hermione said, fighting to keep her voice steady. 

“But–” 

“I want to be alone.” 

Hermione left the castle, thankful for the frigid air; she’d found that warm air at night sent her into a panic attack. She closed her eyes and allowed the silence to relax her. 

For that fleeting moment, she was alone in the world and completely at peace. 

The dance drifted far away into the night, taking all her problems with it. Neither the quiet chirping of crickets nor the sorrowful howling of a lone wolf penetrated the silence around her. The only sound in the night was her own breathing. 

The sparkle of fire behind her eyes forced her to open them and banish the memory before it could manifest. She held her head and groaned. With or without the hair clip, she couldn’t stop the memory from coming back. 

“Hermione, what happened?” 

Footsteps accompanied Alex’s voice. 

“I… It’s nothing.” 

“I think you forget, I used to be your prefect. I know how bad Ron is at talking to… well, anyone, really.” She paused, and the footsteps stopped. “Hermione, please look at me.” 

Hermione turned around and wiped tears out of her eyes. 

“It’s alright.” Alex put her hands on Hermione’s shoulders. “Tell me what happened, and we’ll work through it all together.” 

Back inside, Ron returned to his table. He’d blown his chance with Hermione, but it was worse than that. What little time he had with her, and because of him, she was probably spending it crying. 

All he wanted to do was to lay his head on the table and stare into space. He was tired of dancing, of everything. 

“Cheer up, Cohort.” 

He looked up and saw Sally-Anne sitting next to him. Krum wasn’t far off, talking with some friends, but still keeping an eye on Sally-Anne. 

“Easy for you to say,” Ron said. “You didn’t just make your best friend cry. Again.” 

Sally-Anne took his hand, but he didn’t get butterflies like when he’d taken Hermione’s. 

“Why don’t you go apologize?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“What’s the point? Even if I did, she’d never forgive me. It’s not like last year when I didn’t say anything, I actually said it this time!” 

“What’d you say to her?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Ron looked away, hoping he could get out of it. 

“I can have Viktor come over here and twist your arm for me,” Sally-Anne said. “Or either of your brothers. Or Alex.” 

“I told her… I don’t want to say it.” 

“That’s probably a good sign. Why don’t you go out and apologize?” 

“Because I’ll only make it worse! I always make it worse! I thought if I just didn’t talk to her, I wouldn’t make it worse, but I always screw up!” 

Sally-Anne gave him a crooked smile. 

“Is that why you’ve been so quiet around her?” 

He nodded. 

“Believe it or not, I think that’s brilliant,” she said. “You’re finally thinking about what you say.” 

Ron glared at her. 

“You can’t expect to be perfect on your first try.” 

“You always know what to say. How do you do it?” 

“Rose gave me inherent bonuses to Wisdom and Charisma. Then there’s my dress, and my ribbon. Basically, I’ve been hand-crafted by Rose to be good with people.” 

“Of course she did. What’s the point of being clever if I can’t do anything right?!” 

“Find her and tell her how you feel. No hiding, no fake overconfidence, just you and her talking. Just talk to her from the heart.” 

“I can’t.” 

“I know it’s hard for you, but it doesn’t have to sound perfect.” 

Ron spared her suggestion a moment’s thought, but dismissed it. Instead, he offered something else. 

“I told her it was good that I tried the first task, but I just wanted to tell her I was happy to be here with her.” 

“Then just tell her that.” 

“But… it feels… I could do more!” 

“Why? Because you saw Viktor doing it? He took weeks to memorize that one line. He’s actually worse about expressing himself than you are.” 

That caught Ron off guard. Viktor Krum was one of the best Quidditch players in the world. Everyone wanted to be him. If he was just as bad at talking to girls as Ron was, maybe Ron wasn’t so bad after all. 

“Hermione didn’t agree to go with you because she thought you’d be like your brother, she wants to be here with you.” Sally-Anne smiled at him. “And I agree with her. Ron Weasley’s a great guy once you get to know him.” 

Ron blushed and hoped Sally-Anne didn’t see. 

“Well, I guess I am a bit.” 

Sally-Anne covered her mouth as she let out a small laugh. 

“I’m glad you think so too.” She stood up. “Go talk to your date. Tell her you’re sorry, that you didn’t realize it was a big deal, and then tell her what you told me.” 

Ron lept to his feet with a renewed sense of resolve. 

“Thanks, Sally-Anne!” 

“You’re most welcome, Ron.” 

Ron ran out of the Great Hall. When he got out, he stopped and looked around. Hermione was nowhere to be found. 

“She went outside.” 

Rose’s voice made him jump. He whirled around and found her with Sylvia. 

“Brain ran out a few minutes ago,” Rose said. “I assume you upset her.” 

“Never mind that! Where is she?!” 

“Like I said, outside. Find the entrance hall. She went to get some fresh air.” 

“Thanks!” Ron shouted as he ran down the corridor to the entrance hall. 

His heart hammered in his ears when he ran through the open castle doors. He whipped his head around, searching for any sign of her. After a moment, he caught sight of her and Alex standing not far from the castle. 

“Hermione!” 

He started towards her. 

“Go away, Ronald!” 

Her words stopped him cold. 

“Hold on,” Alex said. She walked up to Ron, but addressed them both. “You were both having lots of fun before Ron put his foot in his mouth. I’m sure you can go back to that.” 

No one moved for a minute. Ron could count the seconds. Every time he opened his mouth, Alex would shake her head, and he’d close it. He didn’t know why, but they were waiting for Hermione to speak. 

“I can’t!” Hermione’s voice broke. “Just leave me alone!” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Ron said. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a big deal. All I wanted to say was that I was happy to be at the ball with you. I… I wish I hadn’t run off and broken into the task. I wish I’d just talked to you, because there’s no one else I wanted to be here with.” 

For an eternity, no one said anything. The only sound Ron heard was the sound of his own breathing. 

“Ron, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me,” Hermione said. “I… I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I’ve been scared ever since… I’ve been having nightmares about the World Cup. The man that attacked me… he called me ‘Mudblood’. I can’t get it out of my head that he knew who I was. What if he knows where I live? Or who my friends are?” She wiped tears out of her eyes. “I keep having nightmares that he comes back and attacks you, or Ginny, or Luna. Or hurts my mum and dad. So when you nearly died, I just… I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.” 

Sobs drowned out anything else Hermione had to say. For a moment, Ron just stood and watched. He didn’t know what to do. Anything he said would make it worse. 

<Hug her, Cohort. She needs a hug.>

Ron took a few steps forward. When Hermione didn’t back away, he shakily put his arms around her. 

“I won’t try again,” he said. “I promise.” 

“I’m… sorry,” she sobbed. “I… Oh, Ron!” She returned his hug. 

For what felt like hours, Ron and Hermione just stood there under the full moon. Ron never wanted to let go. 

Alex cleared her throat. 

“As sweet as this is, you two should get back inside.” 

“She’s right,” Hermione said. 

The three of them walked back together. They found Rose and Sylvia waiting at the entrance. 

“Are you alright?” Rose asked. 

“I am now,” Hermione said. “Thank you, Rose.” 

Rose nodded. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know. I forgive you.” 

Rose and Hermione smiled at one another, then Rose took Hermione’s hand. 

“You left this in our room.” She pressed the hair clip into Hermione’s hand. 

“It’s your room now?” Hermione asked. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell. When was the last time you slept in it?” 

Rose stuck her tongue out at her as she fastened the hair clip back into her hair. When Hermione had finished, she turned to Ron. 

“Well? How does it look?” 

“Great!” 

Hermione smiled. “Good answer.” 

* * *

At the end of the night, Viktor and Sally-Anne walked outside, moving slowly towards the Durmstrang ship. 

“I am hoping you had good time,” Viktor said. “Even if you were wanting to be with Potter instead.” 

“What?!” Sally-Anne gasped. “I–” 

“I am best Seeker in world. Any Seeker worthwhile must see whole field. They must use opponent against opponent, as extra set of eyes. You look at him and mute girl no less than eight times tonight.” 

Sally-Anne’s heart sank. She’d warned Ron about not staring at Hermione if she’d turned him down, then done the same thing. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I thought I was doing well.” 

“I still got to take beautiful girl to ball. Even if you were wanting to be with other man,” he glanced back at the castle where Alex was watching them, “and even if Alex glares at me like mother eagle, I still had good time.” 

Sally-Anne laughed, relieved that she hadn’t ruined Viktor’s night. 

“I’m glad,” she said. “You’re a lot nicer than I thought you’d be, and… I still can’t believe you memorized that line for me.” 

“On outside, I am big and strong, like bear, but on inside, I am soft and cuddly, like kitten.” 

Sally-Anne laughed again. 

“I’ll remember that. I’m sure Parvati and Lavender are going to ask me all about you tonight.” 

It occurred to Sally-Anne that Viktor wasn’t that different from her. He had to deal with fame all the time. 

“Does it ever bother you that people follow you around all the time?” 

Viktor nodded. 

“Sometimes, it alright, but other times, I just want left alone.” 

“I was starting to think it was just me,” Sally-Anne said, smiling. “My friend Rose makes these beautiful clothes for me, and I keep getting so much attention because of them. It was nice at first, but it can be hard to get away and spend time with my friends.” 

“Then I will take as complement that you choose me of all people to go to ball with,” Viktor said. He took her hand, bent down, and kissed it. “Good night, Princess.” 

“Good night, Viktor,” Sally-Anne said. 

* * *

Rose and “Sylvia” appeared in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of the night. 

“I think you know the way from here,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I had a wonderful time!” 

“Sylvia” glowered at her. 

“Happy?” 

“Yup! Thank you for asking!” Her cheerful smile faded. “Really, Sly, thank you. Carolina said—” 

“If you asked another girl, they’d all think she was like you. You told me.” 

Rose nodded. She glanced at the Chamber of Secrets, then turned back to Sly. 

“Good night.” 

She leaned in and kissed Sylvia’s cheek before she turned back into Sly. Before Sly could say anything, Rose turned to go. 

“I can’t feel that.” 

Rose frowned and turned around. 

“What?” 

“Cruentius can’t create fine detail, so I haven’t got a nervous system.” 

“What about magic?” 

“Magic can only do so much.” 

“Can’t feel anything, can’t leave the castle… it sucks being you.” 

“I never said I couldn’t leave the castle.” 

“Yeah, you just don’t like open spaces. If you could leave the castle, you’d have gone to fetch the hiccups yourself.” 

“Horcruxes.” 

Rose smiled at him. She had finally decided that they were friends, and she was happy to have made a new one. 

“Good night, Sly.” 

“Good night, Rose.” 

With a smile on her face, Rose vanished from the Chamber of Secrets. 


	17. Peace Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some peace talks go well, and others don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Spending the winter holiday writing Harry Potter is likely something J.K. Rowling did. Probably.

Luna woke up in a daze. As her mind cleared, she discovered that she was in her room. She noticed a furry black object nestled against her. 

<Tutela, is that you?>

<Yes, Moon. Are you alright?>

Luna thought back to her dream. Beautiful candles hovering over the dance floor, her in a bright, multicolored dress, dancing along with her partner. 

She shook her head, her face flushed. 

<I don’t think so.>

<What was your dream about?>

<The ball, I think. Did I go?>

<No, Moon. Third-years weren’t allowed without an escort, and no one asked you.>

Luna nodded to the dark room. Tutela rested her head beside Luna on the pillow. 

<You insisted you didn’t mind.>

Thoughts and memories danced in her head as she tried to make sense of them. Luna didn’t mind that she hadn’t gone. There weren’t any boys with whom she’d wanted to go, were there? No, she was certain there weren’t. 

<I didn’t.>

A face flashed in her head, but she put it back in the store cupboard of that Luna’s memories where it belonged. She was like Brain; she didn’t care for boys that much. 

<I don’t think I do.>

Tutela’s ears perked up. 

<If I ask you about boys, who comes to mind?>

<Cohort, but I think that’s because another Luna went with Ron to the ball.> She paused and thought some more. She’d had more than one dream that night. <Another one went with Harry, I think.>

<And you? With whom would you have gone?>

<No one… I don’t know.> Tears welled up in her eyes. <I don’t know. I can’t tell. It’s all jumbled.>

She tried putting everything into her filing cabinet as her mum had taught her, but she couldn’t sort out the emotions. Who was happy? Who was sad? There was one Luna that just hated everyone, but they all avoided thinking about Mean Luna. Another Luna loved everyone, but that wasn’t her. She didn’t love anyone apart from her dad and Rose. Was she like one of the other Lunas that liked girls instead of boys? 

<Help me.>

Tutela nestled against her. Unlike every other time, her soft fur did little to bring comfort to Luna. Luna still held tightly to Tutela and buried her face in Tutela’s fur. It helped to muffle the sobs so her dad didn’t worry. She hated making him worry. 

<It’s going to be worse when we leave. Then I won’t have Rose to sort it all out.>

She forced the thoughts to stay inside the store cupboard. If they didn’t escape, they wouldn’t overwhelm her again. She stayed safe so long as they stayed inside. 

<I can’t keep the emotions straight. What do I do?>

<Does your dad know?>

<I don’t think so. Maybe. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. I don’t want him to worry.>

Luna remembered the days when her dad didn’t do anything. When he just sat in his chair and stared into space. That was when Luna had learned to cook. 

<I used to make cupcakes for Daddy. He always smiled when I did. We ate cupcakes for dinner once.>

Luna stopped crying and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. 

<Those are my memories. I know it.>

The storm inside her head found peace, and she with it. 

<Tutela, I’m scared.>

<Of what?>

<What if I forget who I am? I only remember because of you and Rose.>

<Just now, you remembered who you were. You knew which memories were yours. Perhaps you don’t need us.>

Luna didn’t have an answer. She wanted it all to be okay. Not for the first time, she wished she had normal dreams. Dreams of unicorns, or books, or thestrals, like normal girls did. 

She held up her hand. A ring glistened in the light of the crescent moon outside. 

<I’m not tired anymore. I think my ring finished attuning.>

She was grateful for it. The last thing Luna wanted was to go back to sleep. Only two hours of sleep meant fewer dreams. At least, she hoped it did. 

Luna sat up and stretched. The lights came on in her room. With the ball gone from her mind, she picked up her Care for Magical Creatures textbook and started reading. 

* * *

“Sally-Anne, we’re home.” 

Sally-Anne opened her eyes and saw the welcoming sight of her house. Taltria sat on their porch, patiently awaiting their return. 

“How long have I been asleep?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“You fell asleep not five minutes after we left King’s Cross,” her dad said. “You must’ve been worn out from last night.” 

“I guess so,” Sally-Anne said, rubbing her eyes. “Rose says I should only need two hours of sleep once my ring finishes attuning.” 

“What’s that mean?” her mum asked. 

“No idea.” 

Once she got inside, Sally-Anne took her pack to her room and collapsed on her bed. 

“I’m so glad we sent you to Mrs. Walker,” her mum said. “I see she was a resounding success.” 

Sally-Anne mumbled her response into her pillow. 

“What was that, Dear?” 

“She prefers ‘Madame Walker’,” Sally-Anne said after picking her head up. “And she’d give me such a scolding if she saw me like this.” 

“Did Viktor wear you out that much?” her mother asked, a sly smile on her face. 

Sally-Anne waved her leg around in a feeble attempt to kick her mother. 

“Taltria!” 

“Lady Princess?” Taltria poked her head in Sally-Anne’s room. 

“I need you to punch Mum for me.” 

Taltria exchanged glances with her mum. 

“Why?” 

“She’s picking on me.” 

“Like you said: She’s your mum.” 

Her mum sat down on her bed as the phone rang. 

“I got it!” her dad called. 

“Really, though,” her mum said, “how was the ball?” 

“It was nice.” A smile formed on her face. “I had fun.” 

Her mum turned to Taltria, who’d also taken a spot on Sally-Anne’s bed. 

“Taltria?” 

“She was treated with the upmost respect. Viktor was a perfect gentleman. Alex made sure of it.” 

“Mum!” 

“Although there was once I lost sight of them, and they came back with their clothes out of place.” 

“Taltria!” Sally-Anne screeched. She sat bolt upright. “That never happened! I swear! She’s lying!” 

Sally-Anne stared at her mum as her mum eyed her. Sally-Anne stole a glare at Taltria, who was doing all she could not to laugh. 

“Taltria?” her mum said at last. 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Of course not. Lady Princess just looks so cute when she’s distressed.” 

Sally-Anne and her mum gave identical glares to Taltria. 

“What did you think of him?” her mum asked, turning back to Sally-Anne. 

“He was nice,” Sally-Anne replied. “He memorized a passage from _Romeo and Juliet_ to make me smile.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought he knew enough about you.” 

“We’ve talked a few times,” Sally-Anne said. “Mostly about him, but I’m sure I mentioned something about Shakespeare somewhere in there.” 

“Well, you are your father’s daughter,” her mum said with a sigh. “And what about Harry?” 

Sally-Anne flushed for just a moment. After taking time to recompose herself, she said, “Viktor said I looked at him a lot.” 

“That’s no good,” her mum said, grimacing. “It’s one thing to stare at another boy the whole night, but your date shouldn’t catch you.” 

“I know, I didn’t think. He’s probably just as observant as Harry.” 

“Even if he weren’t, you’ve got to let Harry go,” her mum said. “Don’t waste your life pining away for a man that will never love you back.” 

“I know, I’m trying,” Sally-Anne said. “I thought I had it, but then we were working together to get information about Rose, and I thought he’d notice me, but he never did. Then I set him up with Ellie and I keep wondering ‘What if I’d just asked him?’ He spent the train ride back with Ellie, and they looked so happy at the ball, and… I just wanted it to be me!” 

Sally-Anne didn’t realize she was crying until her mother’s arms were around her. 

“It’s not fair.” Sally-Anne melted into her mother’s arms. “It’s not fair!” 

They heard a quiet knock on the open door. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” her father whispered, “but Dear, the phone’s for you. Can I tag in?” 

Her mum kissed her on the head, then took the phone from her dad. She walked off with the phone, talking cheerfully to someone, as her dad took her mum’s place. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Do I need to wag my finger menacingly at someone, or hold them while Taltria punches?” 

Sally-Anne laughed a little, thankful for her dad’s sense of humor. 

“Neither.” Sally-Anne wiped some tears out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s not that important.” 

“Is it about Harry?” he asked. 

Sally-Anne thought for a moment about not telling him, but it was her dad. If Alex didn’t have the answer, then her dad always would. 

She nodded. 

“Any boy who doesn’t fall madly in love with you after spending so much time with you isn’t good enough for you,” he said. “This other boy, Viktor, sounds like a nice young man. Maybe a little old, but if he sees how magnificent you are, you should take the sun and moon when he offers them.” 

“He quoted _Romeo and Juliet_ at the ball,” she said softly. 

“Cherishes you, treats you with respect, and knows Shakespeare. That’s my three requirements met. Are you going to wait until after you graduate, or get married now?” 

She smiled and elbowed her dad. 

“Don’t let Madame Walker catch you doing that,” he said. “She’ll have your head for breakfast.” 

Sally-Anne let her head fall on her father’s shoulder. 

“Thanks, Dad.” 

He squeezed her shoulders. “Anything for you, Princess.” 

They sat in silence for a minute, listening to the faint conversation her mum was having with her friend. 

“Who was on the phone?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Your mum’s friend Maggie,” her dad replied. “But she’s not my concern right now, you are. Do you like Viktor?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Then take some time and think about it. I think he’s worth giving a chance. Why don’t you spend some time in that place around Hogwarts? Get to know him better.” 

Sally-Anne tried to imagine herself with Viktor. He was sweet, more so than she’d expected him to be. Maybe they were well suited. 

“Aren’t you supposed to say something like ‘If he hurts you, I’ll make him regret it’?” she asked. 

Her dad chuckled. “Of course not.” He stopped laughing abruptly. “Your mum and Taltria handle that.” 

Sally-Anne glanced over at Taltria. She sat patiently listening to them, quieter than Sally-Anne had ever seen her. 

“I’ve got instructions to drag him to Alex,” Taltria said. 

“That’s a scary thought,” Sally-Anne said. 

* * *

One particularly cold morning, an owl flew into Hermione’s kitchen and dropped a parcel in front of her. 

“What’s that?” her mum asked. 

“No idea,” Hermione replied, feeding the owl a piece of bacon. She always found it odd that delivery owls ate bacon, considering normal owls didn’t. 

She slid her finger along the parcel, slicing it open with magic. 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” her mum said, a trace of hostility in her voice. 

“No one’s around, it’s not hurting anyone, and it’s faster than fetching the letter opener,” Hermione said as she opened the package. 

Inside was a framed photo of the Yule Ball Colin had taken of her and her friends. Seven faces smiled back at her with varying levels of enthusiasm, although none topped Rose’s excitement. 

“Don’t you all look nice,” her mum said as her dad sat down. 

“Am I allowed to put it in my room, or are we still pretending Hogwarts doesn’t exist?” Hermione asked. 

“Talk to your father,” her mum said. 

Hermione turned to her dad, who glowered back at her. 

“It doesn’t move,” Hermione said. 

“There’s a card,” her mum said, reaching for the card that sat beneath the photo. 

Hermione picked it up and read it. 

“‘Happy Holidays, from our family to yours’,” she read. “Signed by the staff at Hogwarts.” 

“All of them?” her mum asked as Hermione handed her the card. 

“Even Professor Snape,” Hermione said, “and Professor Moody, even though I’ve never had him.” 

“Probably for the best,” her dad muttered. 

“There was nothing wrong with Professor Lupin,” Hermione said. “And–” 

“‘Nothing wrong’?” her dad asked. “What about that dragon?!” 

Hermione looked to her mum for an ally, but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t find one. Like many times in the past four months, Hermione felt as if her parents had turned against her. 

“I’m not hungry,” Hermione said, excusing herself from the table. 

Without looking at her parents, the card, or the picture, Hermione ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She stayed on her bed and didn’t move until that night when she had a knock on her open door. 

“May I come in?” her dad asked. 

“Would it matter if I said ‘no’?” 

“Of course it would. It’s always mattered to me what you say.” 

“Does it?” Hermione asked. “Since when?” 

Her father sighed. 

“I brought you your picture. It was still on the table when your mother and I got home.” 

She glanced at her door and saw her father holding the photo. 

“Have you spent all day in your room again?” he asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Most days you sit around and read downstairs. There’s a spot on the couch where you curl up that’s always worn when we get home, even if you’re not in it. Then there are days when everything’s exactly the same as when we left. Today’s one of those days.” 

“What?” 

“We’re worried about you. You hardly eat when you’re here, and we’ve heard you calling out in your sleep.” 

“What does it matter?” Hermione snapped. “It’s about Hogwarts, which you two are determined to convince everyone doesn’t exist!” 

“Of course it exists, but reminding you it’s out there isn’t fair to you.” 

Hermione reached out her arm, whispered an incantation, and summoned a book. She placed it on her lap then glared at her father. 

“I’m reminded of what I’m missing every day. It’s a part of me!” 

Her father sat down and looked at the picture. 

“It’s been nearly a week, and you still haven’t told us how that night went. Or the rest of your week, for that matter.” 

“It went the same as every night goes. I fight off a panic attack when I’m outside, and dread going outside when I’m not.” 

Hermione and her father sat in silence. She knew the drill. Every time she talked about her attack, there would be a few minutes of awkward silence, then he’d make some excuse and leave her alone. 

“What would you have us do?” he asked, breaking the pattern. 

“Princess says there’s a therapist on site at St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said. “She went there last year to help with her own panic attacks around Dementors.” 

“I’d rather send you–” 

“What am I supposed to tell a Muggle?” Hermione snapped. “‘While I was at a sporting event that involves flying around on brooms, I was attacked by a bunch of pureblood supremacists that believe all Muggles should die. Oh, and a Muggle is someone who can’t use magic.’” 

“I doubt this St. Mungo’s is any better,” her dad shot back. 

“At least I could talk to them!” 

“Then what? How much good do you think it will do you? You think they’ve got any understanding of how the human mind works?” 

“It’s better than nothing!” 

“It might not be!” 

“It has to be!” 

They both jumped when the light in Hermione’s room burst and the hallway light flickered. 

“What just happened?” her mum called from downstairs. 

“Don’t know,” her dad called back. He looked at Hermione. “What did happen?” 

Panic creeped into her mind, but she held it back. She convinced herself it wasn’t her fault, just a coincidence. 

“I don’t know, but I can fix it.” She activated her night vision. Calculations ran through her head, then she waved her hands over the broken bulb, muttering incantations under her breath. The pieces formed together, then reattached themselves to the fitting in the ceiling. 

“Still can’t believe she can do that,” her dad muttered as the light flickered back on. “Was it you that—?” 

“It couldn’t have been,” Hermione said. She held her hands to stop them from shaking. “That’s never happened before.” 

The lights flickered back to life. Her father didn’t speak a word. Instead, he stared at the wall behind her. 

_It’s fine. I can control it when I’m awake._

She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t know what she’d find, but Hermione knew it wouldn’t be good. If she didn’t turn around, then she couldn’t have lost control. 

_No. Please, no. Don’t take this from me._

She caught sight of cracks in the ceiling that hadn’t been there that morning. Without thinking, she followed them back to the wall behind her. As she did, she found more cracks, until she found the source: her. Dozens of cracks branched out from the wall where her back had been just a moment ago. 

“What happened here?” her mum asked, appearing at her door with a torch in hand. 

“I didn’t… I couldn’t have…” She turned to her parents, pleading with them to believe her. “It’s not…” 

“If this is your way of trying to convince us that you need help, then–” her mum started. 

“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!” 

Her parents exchanged looks. 

“I didn’t!” 

“We know you didn’t mean to,” her mum said. She spoke slowly, as one would to a mad person. “But you’ve been using magic a lot lately, and we think it’s time you took a break.” 

“No!” 

“Hermione–” 

“NO!” 

As she screamed, her parents flew back through the open door, which slammed shut behind them. Hermione gasped as she realized what she’d done. She nearly lept off her bed, but caught herself. If she did, she’d have to see her parents’ faces, and that wasn’t something she ever wanted to do. They’d just have the same subtle, disappointed look that Rose gave her ever since the World Cup. Even if no one else saw it, she knew it was there. It was unbearable from Rose, and it’d be worse from her parents. 

Hermione sank to the floor and cried. Neither she nor her parents said another word the rest of the night. 

* * *

“Are you sure she’s gone?” Cornelius asked. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum is staying with a friend for the holiday,” Albus replied, reminding himself once again to thank Xenophilius for agreeing to take the girl. “I watched her board the express myself.” 

Cornelius looked at the door to Albus’s office. 

“And you’re sure?” 

“If anything goes wrong, then I will take full responsibility, and you may feel free to toss me aside without any concern for my retaliation.” He looked Cornelius dead in the eye. “Cornelius, childrens’ lives may be at risk. The longer we delay, the more time either Crouch has to draw up a plan.” 

Cornelius took another look behind them, as if hoping someone else would come in and take the fall for him. Knowing Cornelius, that was exactly what he wanted. 

“Very well,” he said at last. 

The two men walked into Albus’s office where Madame Bones and Barty Crouch waited for them. 

“Sorry for the delay,” Albus said as he took his seat at his desk. “Shall we begin?” 

“I still don’t see how this is necessary,” Crouch said. “I assure you I had nothing to do with that boy’s name in the Goblet of Fire.” 

“Then you should have no trouble with this,” Albus said. “Madame Bones, if you would?” 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” she instructed, taking a vial from her pocket. 

“Really, I–” 

“Or do you want me to do it for you?” she asked, eyeing him with all the contained ferocity of a crouching jaguar. 

Crouch slowly opened his mouth and allowed Madame Bones to put a few drops of veritaserum on his tongue. 

Albus watched one of the clocks in his office for exactly a minute, then turned back to Crouch. 

“What is your name?” 

“Barty Crouch.” 

“What is your son’s name?” 

“Barty Crouch.” This time, he frowned when he answered. “Why?” 

“Did your son die in Azkaban?” 

Crouch flinched, fighting back against the veritaserum. “Y-No.” 

“Who did?” Bones asked. 

“My wife,” Crouch grunted. 

Albus looked to Cornelius, who was clearly shocked by this new revelation. 

“Did you put Neville Longbottom’s name in the Goblet of Fire?” Albus asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Bones asked. 

“I was ordered to put a name in.” 

“By whom?” Cornelius asked, clearly not believing the evidence in front of his eyes. 

“Barty Crouch.” 

“Why did you listen?” Bones asked, resuming control of the interrogation. 

“He… put me under the Imperius Curse.” 

Albus and Bones exchanged glances. 

“Start from when your wife died in Azkaban,” Bones said. “Tell us everything.” 

“No!” Crouch exclaimed. “I can’t! I’ll end up there myself!” 

“Crouch, none of this has to leave this room,” Cornelius said. “I’m sure we can forgive anything you’ve done. After all, we can’t prove any of it.” 

Crouch looked at Cornelius, then to Bones. 

“What about her?” 

Bones glowered at him and said nothing. 

“Madame Bones knows we can’t use anything said under veritaserum without a signed confession,” Albus said. “I am only interested in what your son is planning, but to know that, I must know the whole story.” 

Crouch looked at each of them in turn, then relaxed in his chair. 

“My wife insisted that we save his life. She used polyjuice potion to impersonate him and take his place in Azkaban. Barty came home with me, but… he was still a loyal follower. I thought maybe it was just some phase, but then I found him planning something, so I had to stop him.” 

“What did you do?” Bones asked. 

“I put him under the Imperius Curse to keep him at home,” Crouch said with some resistance. “He stayed out of sight when people were around, and made no attempt to leave the house.” 

“What went wrong?” 

“Bertha Jorkins showed up, looking for me. I still don’t know why. She’d probably got confused again, but by the time I found her, he’d grabbed her wand. He put us both under the Imperius Curse, then learned everything she knew about the Ministry and Hogwarts.” 

“Why Hogwarts?” Albus asked. 

“He wanted me to put Harry Potter’s name in the Goblet of Fire and help him to the final task,” Crouch said. “Then turn the cup into a portkey so when he touched it, he’d be transported to a graveyard where Barty would be waiting.” 

“What graveyard?” Albus asked. 

“Little Hangleton.” 

_Where, if I’m not mistaken, Tom Riddle, Sr. was buried._

“Why did you put Longbottom’s name in the Goblet of Fire and not Potter’s?” Bones asked. 

“I tried to fight back,” Crouch said. “The boy brought an end to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s rule. I thought I owed him that, so I put another name in the Goblet of Fire instead.” 

“Why Longbottom’s?” 

“I think I know the answer to that,” Albus said. “He’s the only name you knew for sure went to Hogwarts.” 

“I remembered his name because of what Barty did,” Crouch said. “Then I found out that he was friends with that girl, and after what she did to Bagman–” 

“There is no evidence that suggests Ms. Peta-Lorrum was responsible for what happened to Mr. Bagman,” Albus said quickly. 

_Even if it is something she’d do._

Seeing that his companions were giving him strange looks, he added, “Besides, I hear he’s going to make a full recovery and has even decided to break his nasty gambling habit.” 

“Where is your son now?” Bones asked, returning them to the present discussion. 

“I don’t know,” Crouch said. “He was at my house last I knew, but I doubt he’s there anymore.” 

“How did you get Mr. Longbottom’s name in the Goblet of Fire?” Albus asked. 

“It was Barty’s idea,” Crouch said. “He was always clever. I transfigured a piece of parchment to a thin layer of stone. Barty drew a rune on it that faded over time, so when the goblet was lit, the stone turned back into a piece of parchment and unleashed a Confundus Charm on the goblet to trick it into thinking there were four schools.” 

_Exactly as Rose said,_ Albus thought. 

He admitted to himself that he was concerned how accurate the story Rose gave him was. Her friend could’ve known what happened, but she also could’ve influenced events. 

_Just how powerful is she?_

“Have you already enchanted the cup?” Albus asked. 

“No.” 

Albus exchanged glances with his companions. He nodded to Bones. 

“That will be all,” she said. “Please wait outside.” 

Crouch did as he was told. No one spoke until after the door had slammed shut behind him. 

“Now what?” Cornelius asked. 

“We find Junior and put a stop to his plans,” Bones said. 

“I believe the cup is the important part of all this,” Albus said. “Come June, we’ll want to have Aurors posted at Little Hangleton, just in case.” 

“If we can spare them,” Bones said. “We’ve been stretched thin ever since the World Cup. It’d be easier just to ensure your cup isn’t enchanted.” 

“It may have to be, although I can talk with the people responsible for building the third task,” Albus said. “Perhaps they will have a better idea.” 

Admittedly, even Albus didn’t know what Rose was building inside the Quidditch Pitch, although he’d given her strict guidelines for it, so he hoped that it wouldn’t present a danger to any of the audience. Adding to that would be the presence of students and their parents, which meant the Grangers and Lovegoods would be present to keep her honest. 

“What about Crouch?” Cornelius asked, staring at the closed door. 

“We should take him into custody,” Bones said. “He’s still imperiused, so–” 

“We can’t just ruin his reputation like that,” Cornelius argued. “Surely there’s a better solution.” 

“What would you suggest?” Albus asked. 

Cornelius shifted uncomfortably. 

“Junior will know we’re on to him by now,” Bones said. “He won’t risk anything big, but he’ll start planning around us now that he knows.” 

“If we keep Crouch here, I can have him monitored every second without him knowing,” Albus said. 

“You can?” Cornelius asked. 

“Indeed,” Albus said. “Between the portraits and house-elves, we should be able to keep a constant eye on him. He will also not be allowed anywhere near the Triwizard Cup.” 

After everyone had agreed, Cornelius and Bones left his office. He caught sight of Minerva, who escorted them down the staircase and out of sight. Once his door closed, he called Dripty. 

“Yes, Professor Dumbledore? You is needing Dripty?” 

“Please inform Ms. Peta-Lorrum that I wish to speak with her at her earliest convenience.” 

Dripty took a hold of the seashell that hung around his neck. 

“She says she is being on her way.” 

“Thank you, Dripty. And… you’re sure you don’t want to be head elf? The position is only filled temporarily at the moment.” 

Dripty nodded, a sullen look on his face. 

“Dripty is not wanting to replace Ms. Atrien, but Professor Dumbledore is being kind for offering.” 

Rose appeared beside Dripty. 

“Salutations, Dripty!” 

“It is being nice to see Miss Rose, but Dripty must be going.” 

“It was good to see you too! I’ll have to come visit some time!” 

Dripty smiled then vanished, leaving Albus and Rose alone. 

“You and Sylvia were right,” Albus said. “We interrogated Mr. Crouch, and he explained to us everything we needed to know.” 

“ _Kethé_!” she exclaimed. “Are we— wait, did you say Sylvia?” 

Albus looked at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles. 

“Did you really expect to bring an unfamiliar guest to the ball and have me not assume she was your friend from the Chamber of Secrets?” 

Rose stared at him with her unnerving, unblinking stare. 

“Crab apples.” 

“Didn’t expect I’d figure it out?” 

“No, just hoping Brain would’ve figured it out first.” 

“I’m surprised no one else questioned it, although I suspect you two were responsible for that too.” 

“Kinda.” Before Albus could ask her any further questions, she changed the subject. “Are we ready for the second task?” 

“Just about,” Albus said. “Of course, most of the preparation can’t be done until that night. Do you have the list of names?” 

Rose pulled out her notebook. “Right here. Whenever you’re ready.” 

“How did you get them?” 

“Princess. She doesn’t know why I need them, apart from just the tournament.” 

Albus was uneasy with her enlisting her friends’ help, but of her friends, Sally-Anne was the least likely to ask questions. If it’d been Hermione, he’d have been far more concerned. Harry was likely to ask and keep it to himself, but Hermione would keep digging. At least, that’s what he’d gathered about her friends. 

Another idea popped into his mind. He wrote down a reminder to talk to Minerva about it. 

“I haven’t started talking yet.” 

“Oh, no. I was making a note about something else.” He turned his attention back to Rose. “I won’t need the names just yet. Best to see how things play out.” 

Rose shrugged and stowed her notebook. 

“What about the orbs?” Albus asked. 

Rose nodded. “They activate tonight, so it won’t be long before they start to work them out.” 

“Are you sure? You didn’t exactly make it easy for them.” 

“Still easier than the eggs would’ve been! How were they supposed to guess water?” 

“Well–” 

“They’d guess! It’d take them forever to work it out, and it all came down to blind luck! This way, they’ve got to work together, and I know they’ll figure them out!” 

Albus gazed at Rose, who looked quite proud of herself. He sighed. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

* * *

That night, Neville found himself looking at the orb. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling it was a good time to start thinking about the second task. 

As he turned it over in his hands, golden letters appeared on the smooth orb: 

_P os lacx ophn crzxx_  
_Iiz E nvowy kkap_  
_Z ysks oj tyx dpunp_  
_Blm lofore zg los jwrb_  
_Bx fca herkf tm ozeemaam_  
_O sice kocc uol rgbf taxk mszy_  


After a minute of staring at the orb, his mouth hanging open all the while, he uttered a single word. 

“Huh?” 


	18. Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people go more mad than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** In case you happen to be losing your mind, I'll remind you all that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

When Hermione woke up, it was still dark. She rose from her bed and turned on her light. Then she walked over to her bookshelf and selected a book. She took her selected book and settled into the same spot on her bed where she’d been rereading books for weeks. 

When her clock said four, she closed the book, picked up her hairbrush, and brushed her hair, cleaning herself and her clothes. 

_I wonder how Mum and Dad are doing._

She threw away the thought about her parents before it could grow bigger. She walked as calmly as she could back to her bed, lest she set off an explosion of thoughts. A minute later, she was back into her book. Books were good; books kept her mind focused on something. 

_That reminds me, a flashbang spell would be useful._

Another second later, equations unfolded inside her head. Generating sound from a fixed point was easy enough with magic. Combining it with a bright light, brighter than Lumos, was hard. Not impossible; she knew how. 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. 

“Not again. I’m in control, and I’ve got to stop. No more.” 

She returned to her book. Chemistry wasn’t the most interesting topic, but she’d read her physics and calculus books far more than her chemistry book. 

_It’d be easy to transfigure some of these materials._

“No!” she hissed. 

She forced her mind clear again, then struggled on with her book. 

“I can do this. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that.” 

_Classes start back up today._

“Stop it, Hermione,” she hissed again. “You’re not a student at Hogwarts anymore. You’re a mostly normal girl. If you don’t stop using magic, it’s going to get worse.” 

An image of the man from the World Cup flashed into her head, but she shook it clear. 

_How did he know I was Muggle-born? What if he finds me?_

More thoughts bled into her mind before she could stop them. She closed her book, squeezed her eyes shut, and starting counting multiples of seven in her head. A few minutes later, when she reached 2142, she settled back into her bed. With a clear mind, she picked up her book and started reading again. 

_What if he—_

“NO!” 

Hermione ripped off her hair clip, taking some of her hair with it, and hurled it with all her might against the far wall. It bounced off, taking a chip of the wall with it, and fell to the floor. 

A haze fell over her mind, but for once, she was glad for it. She took a deep breath, enjoying the peace and quiet in her head. 

“That’s better.” 

Her head throbbed where her hair clip used to rest. Hermione didn’t care; she’d gotten used to shutting out pain. She settled against the wall and opened her book again. 

* * *

Later that morning, while Neville packed his things to go down to breakfast, he took a moment to look over the orb again. It was the same, jumbled mess of letters. He’d looked at it from different angles, thinking maybe it was some sort of pattern he was supposed to see. That seemed like something Rose would do, and he couldn’t think of anything else. 

_I’m just too stupid for this._

Drained of energy, he tossed it back in his pack and started downstairs. 

A surprise met him at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. 

“Good morning, Neville,” Cedric said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to ask you about the next task.” 

“We’re not supposed to have help.” 

“From anyone outside the tournament,” Cedric said. “They didn’t say anything about help from the other champions.” 

Neville shrugged. He didn’t care; it’s not as if he could be of any help. 

“I don’t know if you’ve looked at the orb lately,” Cedric said, “but a bunch of letters appeared on mine. Not words or anything, just a bunch of letters.” 

“Mine too,” Neville said. “I don’t know what they mean.” 

“Me either,” Cedric said. “Is it alright if I see yours?” 

Neville shrugged. “I guess.” 

He fished his out of his pack, then showed it to Cedric. 

“Yeah, these are the same on mine,” Cedric said. “I was thinking maybe they’d given us different letters or something. Like combine them all to make the actual words.” 

“Okay.” Neville tossed his orb back inside his pack. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Fine. I mean… we’ve only really got a month left to work on this, right?” 

“Exactly.” Cedric’s positive tone was in direct contrast to Neville’s. “We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” 

Neville glanced at Cedric. Of course, he was happy. He was the official Hogwarts champion. No one said anything out loud anymore, not while Neville could hear, but when he turned his back, he knew they were still laughing him. Everyone did. 

Then there was Cedric. Confident, happy. He knew he’d be fine in the tournament; why wouldn’t he be? 

_It must be nice thinking you’ll succeed eventually._

“Well, I’m off.” Cedric started down the corridor to Ravenclaw Tower. “If I think of something, I’ll let you know.” 

“Thanks.” 

Neville looked for Rose at breakfast, to no avail. He wasn’t sure he’d seen her since they’d returned to Hogwarts. Her absence made him feel more tired. 

“Hi, Toad,” Ginny said. 

“Hey, Ginny.” 

She sat down across from him and grabbed food from the plates. Neville stared at them, but didn’t pick anything up. If the orb was part of the tournament, how was he supposed to keep going? He couldn’t figure it out. 

“I was thinking we could practice together in the Room of Requirement later,” Ginny said. “My sharpshooting suffered over the holiday.” She grimaced. “I hate not being allowed to use magic outside of school.” 

“I can’t. I’ve got to figure out this orb.” 

“Oh. Can I help?” 

_I’m not getting anywhere with it._

Neville showed her the orb. She looked just as confused as he was. 

“Oh.” 

“Figuring it out?” Sally-Anne asked as she took a seat at the table. 

“Not really.” 

Sally-Anne took a look at it. 

“Goodness. How are you supposed to figure that out?” 

Neville shrugged. At least it wasn’t just he that was confused. 

“Cedric couldn’t figure it out either.” He glanced around the Great Hall again. “Have you seen Rose?” 

“I can’t say that I have.” 

Sally-Anne carefully took some eggs. She delicately cut small pieces, in stark contrast to Ginny’s method of stabbing them repeatedly as if it were a beast she’d just slain. 

No Rose, no orb. It wasn’t shaping up to be a good day for Neville. At least he didn’t have Potions. Better than that, he had Divination first thing. That wasn’t so bad. There wasn’t a lot of spellcasting for him to screw up in Divination class. 

When the mail arrived, a letter dropped in front of Sally-Anne. 

“What’s that?” Ginny asked. 

“I’d say it’s a letter, but from whom, I don’t know,” Sally-Anne replied. She glanced at the letter, then looked up and down the table. “Either the mail’s early, or Ron’s late.” 

“He always sleeps in,” Ginny said. 

“But he’s always here for the mail,” Sally-Anne said. She used a knife to open the letter. “Besides, with the rings Rose gave us, we don’t need as much sleep anymore, like Hermione.” She glanced behind her at the Hufflepuff table. “I wonder if Harry knows.” 

Neville spared a glance behind him. Harry was sitting across from Ellie. She smiled at him as he laughed. Neville couldn’t help but feel a little jealous; no one ever smiled at him like that. 

“It’s… from Professor Dumbledore.” Sally-Anne frowned at the letter. “He says he wants to meet me today at 11 o’clock. And… not to tell anyone… except Ginny and Neville, who will no doubt be sitting with me when I get this— how does he do that?” 

Neville peeked at the letter over her shoulder. Sure enough, he and Ginny were mentioned by name. 

“He’s Professor Dumbledore. Gran says he’s the best wizard ever.” 

“I’ve no trouble believing that,” Sally-Anne said with a smile. 

* * *

Sally-Anne sat down in Professor Dumbledore’s office. She carefully crossed one leg in front of the other and laid her left hand over her right. Madame Walker had taught her manners and posture; Rose had taught her to always keep her primary attack ready at a moment’s notice. 

“You wanted to see me?” 

“I did. I think you might be interested in helping with an idea I’ve had.” 

Sally-Anne smiled politely. “Which is?” 

“I thought the students might enjoy a Quidditch skirmish between the schools. Perhaps two teams of six players, with two members of each school on each team.” 

“I can’t say I’m terribly familiar with Quidditch.” 

“I don’t need someone familiar with Quidditch, Ms. Perks, I need someone familiar with the players.” 

Despite her understanding faltering, her smile didn’t. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum told me you helped her collect information for us pertaining to the champions. I’ve seen you smiling at and talking with many students from the other schools, and I thought I’d take advantage of your position. I need you to find out which students from the three schools play Quidditch, and which ones would get along well with the other schools’ players. Then, compile a roster of twelve students.” 

Sally-Anne nodded. She realized she’d need to remember all the information Dumbledore was giving her, so she pulled out the notebook she’d used to get information on the champions weeks ago and began jotting down notes. 

“With two players as champions, I think we’ll break them into two teams with Mr. Krum and Mr. Diggory as the captains.” 

“You said four players from each school?” 

“That is correct.” 

“What about the houses? Would you rather I select one member of each house? Obviously, Hufflepuff’s already been chosen for me.” 

“I think that would be best. As much as I’m a fan of Gryffindor, I don’t think it wise to have three players from Gryffindor and none from Ravenclaw or Slytherin.” 

Sally-Anne made a note of this too. 

Dumbledore proceeded to explain his idea for how the skirmish would work. All players would play Chaser, no Keepers. Just something small to keep people entertained and encourage cooperation. Sally-Anne understood little of it, but it seemed simple enough. 

“Why not just have the professors work on this?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“If we ask the students directly, many of them will try nominating themselves or their friends. After we’ve tried and failed to understand the relationship dynamics of you youngsters, most of which escape us old, tired professors, we’d have to regroup and find a student that can behave responsibly enough to not let her personal biases get in the way of her task, and who knows the students well enough to find us the best team.” He smiled a warm, grandfatherly smile that she suspected he’d practiced, right down to the twinkle in his eye. “I’m simply skipping ahead to the end and saving us all a lot of time.” 

A sense of arrogance crept over her as she realized she could see straight through Dumbledore’s flattery. Thanks to her lessons, she showed none of it on her face. Instead, she gave a modest chuckle. 

“I appreciate the flattery, but there’s no need. I’m happy to help in any way I can.” 

Dumbledore gave her another, more honest smile. 

“Your help is appreciated, Ms. Perks. You may leave.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and rose from her chair. 

“You haven’t given me a deadline.” 

“The match will be at the start of June,” Dumbledore said. “I suspect they’ll want all the time they can to practice, so let’s say get the names to me before the second task.” 

“Consider it done.” 

Sally-Anne gave a slight curtsy before leaving. 

“One more thing, Professor. How did you know I’d be sitting with just Ginny and Neville this morning?” 

“If I told you that,” Professor Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, “it’d take all the excitement and wonder out of it.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at him, trying hard not to laugh out loud. 

“Enjoy your day, Professor.” 

“And you yours, Ms. Perks.” 

* * *

Hermione looked up from her bed. She’d heard a noise, not that she knew what it was. Nothing was in her room, was it? 

She stood up and walked around, searching for any sign that someone else was hiding in her room. 

“Rose, is that you?” 

Hermione stood still for a moment. If it were Rose, she had no reason to answer her. She only hoped that Rose wouldn’t play games with her. 

On her way back to her bed, she picked up a new book and settled back in. Never mind her distractions. They weren’t important. What was important was that she could still learn. 

She glanced at the hair clip, still on her floor. Her mind felt like sludge, oozing through her head without purpose. She couldn’t make it go faster, or properly direct it, but she refused to put the hair clip back on. 

Another sound jolted her from her thoughts. She whipped her head around, hoping to find its source. She knew she hadn’t imagined it. Frustration crept into her mind along with the possibility that she was starting to hallucinate again. 

“Is someone there?” she called again. “Rose, I swear, if that’s you—” 

The sound came as a faint whisper in her room. The words were barely understandable, but she made out a single word. 

“Mudblood.” 

Hermione dropped her book and pressed herself against the broken wall. Her eyes instinctively sought out the _condition conch_ , hidden away in her nightstand drawer. 

“W-who’s there?” 

She couldn’t keep her voice steady, so she knew there was no way to sound confident. Not that it would’ve mattered if she could’ve; it hadn’t worked last time either. 

“A little mudblood girl trying to be a hero.” 

“Where are you?” She scanned the room again, trying to spot the source of the voice. “S-stay away!” 

She pressed herself against the wall, squeezing her book against her chest. Her eyes darted around the room. She only released her book to wipe sweat from her eyes. 

“Want me to stop?” 

Hermione screamed and hurled her book at the source of the sound. It clattered into her bookshelf, knocking a few more books to the ground. 

_Help me. Please, somebody help me._

Nothing moved in her room. The only sounds she heard were the beating of her own heart and the short, sharp breaths she took. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, becoming aware that her clothes were clinging to her again. 

_Calm down, Hermione. You’re just hallucinating again. He can’t be here._

Even her internal dialogue didn’t sound sure of itself. 

She pulled her sleeve over her hand and used it to wipe more sweat from her face. In doing so, she discovered that there were tears mixed in with the sweat. 

Slowly, she began to relax. After five minutes of hearing nothing, she climbed out of her bed. She checked under her bed, waving her hand around to check for an invisible target. After clearing her bed, she frantically looked through her sheets, then her desk, then her nightstand, then finally the bookshelves that lined a good chunk of her room. 

Hermione picked up book after book and flipped through it. When she had convinced herself that each one was only a book, not some sort of magical sound device, she pressed herself against the wall to see behind the shelves. 

“It’s fine,” she panted after she’d torn the room apart. “It was nothing.” 

Hermione turned back to return to her bed. She allowed herself to relax as she took each step closer. 

The rifling of book pages caused her to jump. She spun around and backed against the wall, but found nothing there. 

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, just leave me alone!” 

After a minute of staring at her books to ensure that none of them moved, she returned to her bed. With her back flat against the wall, she curled up and stared at her room, waiting to hear another sound. 

* * *

Sally-Anne sat with Viktor in the courtyard. She made a note to bring Harry with her to act as lookout next time. She’d spotted at least three people spying on them. 

“Girl with funny hair fought troll first year?” 

“That’s right. It was brilliant. Then she fought back the Basilisk our second year. It was Ginny that killed it in the end, but we all worked together for it. Well, I suppose I didn’t do much, but everyone else was brilliant.” 

“Is it always so exciting at Hogwarts?” 

“It’s been calmer this year, apart from the tournament. After last year, I’m rather glad of it.” 

“You haven’t said about last year. What was happening?” 

Sally-Anne felt her insides twist at the thought of the Dementors. 

“I’d rather not talk about it.” 

“Not to be worrying. I have learned plenty about strange school. Durmstrang is smaller, but more…” He waved his arms in a wide arc. 

“Grander?” 

“Yes. Good word.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. “I’d love to see it sometime. You must love it there.” 

“It is good school, but company could be better.” 

He shot her a smile that said he had the world. She wasn’t sure if that meant her, or just being one of the most famous Quidditch players in the world. 

“Well, I’ll do what I can to improve it,” she said, giving him an equally confident smile. 

They watched the snow drift to the ground. Sally-Anne found her thoughts turning to her friends. Hermione’s nervous look when she and Ron had returned to the ball, Neville’s dismay at not figuring out the next task. She’d tried getting inside his head, but found it was getting harder to read his mind. 

_I’m sure Rose is the cause of that._

Of course, the absent Rose was also troubling. Where was she? 

“Neville said the orbs were hard to work out,” she said, putting Rose out of her mind. “Any luck?” 

“It is mess of letters,” Viktor said. “I look at it on nightstand at night, hoping to see something different, but nothing.” 

“Neville was talking to Cedric about it.” She flashed him a smile. “Maybe the three of you together can work it out.” 

Viktor nodded absently. It wasn’t clear if he agreed with her, but she knew better than to pry. She let him worry about his own decision, just as Harry and Ron both preferred. 

* * *

Neville sat in the library, waiting for Cedric. They’d agreed on a time, but Cedric was running late. According to Neville’s watch, two minutes and eight seconds late. 

He glanced around the library again, keeping an eye out for anything that looked out of place. 

_Never get too comfy. Everything’s a trap; it just doesn’t all know it yet._

His eyes darted to Cedric when he walked into his section of the library. 

“Merlin,” Cedric gasped. “Sorry, Neville, you startled me.” 

Neville shrugged. Vigilance didn’t provide time for apologies. 

Cedric glanced behind him. “Sorry, I’m late, but I was being followed again.” 

“Spiral down from the top floor, then double back a few times. Windows are good for catching a reflection of someone following you. Puddles if you think they’re above you.” 

Cedric stared at Neville. He couldn’t see why. What was complicated about counter-surveillance? 

“I swear I’m talking to a different person than I was a few days ago,” Cedric said. “You looked like you were asleep when we talked Monday, just as bad yesterday. What’s gotten into you now?” 

“Nothing. Counter-surveillance is easy. I’ve done it loads of times in the Forbidden Forest.” 

Neville thought back to his time in the forest with a strange sense of comfort. He’d been scared at first, but thinking back, it was easy. Not like trying to figure out the orbs, or ask Rose to the ball. 

“What were you doing in the forest?” 

“Just… It’s how Rose helped me practice for the first task. While I was sleeping, she put me in some random spot in the middle of the forest, and I had to find my way out.” 

“No wonder you were so good at it,” Cedric said. He pulled out his orb from a pack slung over his shoulder. “Anyway, I haven’t got anything new. Professor Vector told me about cryptography, but I wouldn’t know where to start decoding this. Have you?” 

Neville shook his head. He glanced past Cedric and saw another familiar face. 

“We’ve got company.” 

Cedric turned and saw Krum coming up behind them. 

“Hey, Krum,” Cedric said. “We’re working on the orbs.” 

“Then it is good I brought this.” Krum set his orb down in the middle of them. 

Neville leaned in to read the letters on it: 

_L ud bsev wvzk aiuwy_  
_Sug O qymqj pvec_  
_O iuuq ag khr rlayf_  
_Tnk tuxlpv uf mye qgue_  
_Zr qhl lrguh dk awvngows_  
_Z iaec suuz sfg qhlr akan kmkd_  


“That’s interesting,” Cedric said. “Yours is different from ours.” 

Neville took another look at the letters on Krum’s orb, then another look at his own. Cedric was right; there were two different sets of letters. 

“Look at this,” Cedric continued, pointing at the start of it. “It’s the same groupings. We’ve got a ‘P’ where you’ve got an ‘L’, then you’ve got U-D where we have O-S. It must be the same message, but hidden differently.” Cedric frowned for a moment, his face scrunched in thought. “It must be based on our school somehow.” 

Neville frowned at his own orb. If the point of the tournament was to inspire cooperation, what better way than to give them a code they couldn’t crack without comparing notes? 

“That is good, but not helping solve orbs. How do we know what to do with them?” 

“First, we should probably check with Fleur,” Cedric said. “If hers is different, then we know it’s something to do with the schools. I asked the Arithmancy professor here about it, and she said she might know something. If it is based on our schools, then that might help her more.” He turned his attention to Neville. “Think you can ask Fred and George?” 

“Why?” 

“I figure they’ve got to be good at passing messages to one another without anyone knowing, or speaking in code. Or Rose. Is she good at this sort of thing?” 

Neville hesitated. Even though he knew why he couldn’t go to Rose for help, they didn’t, and he couldn’t possibly explain it. He shrugged to avoid giving an answer. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see if someone knows good books on secret codes.” 

“What if it is not in book?” 

“Then we’ve got a month to figure out something else.” 

* * *

A week later, and they had almost nothing to show for it. Fleur had refused to help them. Professor Vector gave them some ideas, but apart from that, it was just searching through the library for answers. 

They’d spent most of Saturday and Sunday scouring the library. Fortunately, Sally-Anne had sent Ron (and more importantly, Ron’s bracelet) to help Sunday afternoon. At the end of Sunday, they each had a list of possible ciphers to try. 

Neville stared at his list of ciphers Wednesday morning. What was he supposed to do? Cedric was the smart one of their bunch. He wasn’t cut out for this. 

“What’s that?” 

On that particular day, Neville had hidden himself away in the library. However, Luna had a habit of popping up when he least expected it. 

“Hey, Luna. It’s something for the next task.” He showed her the copy of both orbs’ texts. “I’ve got to figure out what that says.” 

Luna bent over and leaned in as close as she could to the paper. Her hair fell around her, nearly touching the ground. 

“What are those words for?” she asked, pointing to the words “Hogwarts” and “Durmstrang”. 

“Cedric thinks it’s a cipher based on our schools. Fleur won’t show us hers, so we can’t be sure, but Cedric and me got the same one, and Krum got another one.” 

Luna stared at the text for another minute. The only movements she made were tilting her head left or right. 

“It’s a Vigenere Cipher.” 

Neville slowly turned his head to stare at Luna. That wasn’t possible; how could she know that just by looking at it? 

“Did… did Rose tell you that?” 

“No, but it’s one of a bunch I know,” Luna said. She pointed at the first few letters of his. “If you subtract the letters h-o-g from p-o-s, you get i-a-m. Same with l-u-d and d-u-r. Then the next word’s pale.” 

Neville tried to piece together what Luna had just said. Something about subtracting letters, and getting “I am pale”. What was she on about? 

“What?” 

“A Vigenere cipher works by subtracting letters from other letters. A is zero, B is one, C is two, and Z is 25. To encrypt the letters, you add the key, and to decrypt, you’ve got to subtract. If the key isn’t long enough, you repeat it until it is.” 

Neville looked down at the text again, then back at Luna. 

“I don’t—” 

“It’s easy.” 

She dropped to the floor, crossing her legs and taking a pencil from behind her ear. She wrote the word “HOGWARTS” over and over again below the letters in his message. 

“It’s just maths. P is 15, H is seven, so the original letter is 15 − 7.” 

“Eight.” 

Luna wrote an “I” in an empty space. She proceeded to walk him through the rest of the letters, until he picked it up after finishing the second line. With Luna confirming his work (and doing the calculations a lot faster than he could), they finished decrypting his message: 

_I am pale with grief_  
_But I never weep_  
_I fade in the light_  
_But thrive in the dark_  
_If you learn my identity_  
_I will show you your next task_  


Neville read it over a few times. He didn’t understand it, but maybe he wouldn’t have to. Cedric or Krum could figure it out. 

“How’d you know all that?” 

“I tried encrypting my thoughts once. It didn’t work. Turns out you’ve got to think them before you can encrypt them.” 

The strangest part of Luna’s statement was he could honestly see her trying that. 

“Daddy and I looked up lots of ciphers for it. It was a lot of fun.” 

Neville nodded, not entirely paying attention anymore. 

“Thanks, Luna.” 

“You’re welcome, Toad.” 

* * *

When Emma arrived home that night, she began her normal routine. She took off her coat, turned on the lights, knocked on her daughter’s door to make sure she was still alive, then returned downstairs to start dinner. It worried her how accustomed to the routine she’d become. 

The only sound during dinner was the clanking of forks against plates. While Dan was clearing up, they heard something crashing from Hermione’s room. After a quick exchange of glances, Emma called up to her. 

“Is everything alright up there?” 

It was more a matter of routine than anything; they both knew they weren’t getting an answer unless they bothered her. 

Emma stood up and climbed the stairs to Hermione’s room. She glanced down and saw that not only was the keyhole still missing, as she’d found it the previous night, but the entire doorknob had vanished. She rapped her knuckles on the door. 

“Hermione! Sweetheart, are you alright in there?!” 

“Go away!” 

When Emma heard her in tears, she instinctively reached for the doorknob. Then she remembered it wasn’t there anymore. 

“Would you at least put the doorknob back?” 

She heard a faint gasp from Hermione’s room. 

“G-Go away!” Hermione wailed. “Just… just leave me alone!” 

Emma glanced at the hinges on the door. They were still there. How hard would it be to undo them and get inside? She hated the idea of removing the entire door, but her little girl was in pain. She felt sick at the idea of the whole thing. 

On her way down the stairs, she finally decided they were going to do something about it. She grabbed a pen and paper on her way to the kitchen table. 

“I’m writing a letter to Professor Vector,” she informed Dan as she sat down. “I’m going to tell her what’s going on, and ask her what she suggests we do.” 

“We don’t need to involve those people,” Dan snapped. “It’s their fault she’s like this.” 

“If it happened to her, it must’ve happened to more of them,” Emma replied. “I don’t think she’s got control over it anymore, Dan. Her doorknob’s gone, and I don’t think she noticed until I pointed it out.” 

That gave him cause for hesitation. Even then, his steadfast hatred of them prevailed. 

“For all we know—” 

“I don’t like it either, but we haven’t got a choice! This is our daughter, Daniel Granger! We can’t just sit around and hope a solution falls on our laps. I’m writing to Vector, because maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance this has happened before, and they fixed it. Or maybe there’s someone like Hermione that enlightened them as to the ways of the human mind. Failing all else, maybe they’ve got a spell that can just make this sort of thing go away. I don’t really care how they fix it, or even if Rose does it, because right now, I just want my daughter back!” 

Ignoring any further response from her husband, Emma began her letter to Professor Vector. 


	19. How to Fix a Broken Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which repairs begin on a broken Brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** My brain isn't broken enough to forget that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

_Professor Vector,_

_You’ve always been a great help to Hermione, and we need your help. For the past few weeks, her condition has deteriorated. She won’t leave her room. Most of what we hear from her is crying._

_Worst of all, we have reason to believe she’s lost control of her magic. We can’t begin to understand what’s going on with her. I went to check on her shortly before writing to you, and my suspicion was confirmed. Her doorknob wasn’t on her door, as if it were never there. Hermione was shocked by this. Before that, she blew the light bulb in her room, and broke part of the wall. Just like with the doorknob, she didn’t know she’d done anything._

_Please. We don’t know what to do. We’ve been hesitant to get Hogwarts involved for personal reasons, but those don’t matter anymore. Any help you can offer us would be more than appreciated._

_Sincerely,_

_Emma Granger_

Albus looked at the letter again, then back to the three people in his office. He envied them in a way. They didn’t know how hopeless their endeavor was. 

Septima stood in the center, just in front of Albus. Unsurprisingly, she’d been the most vocal about her distaste of their current circumstances. 

Minerva stood to his left. He wasn’t sure what it was about that spot, but she always seemed to stand there. She’d had little to say on the matter, although her concern was clear. The same look of frustration adorned her face that he’d seen just after the Quidditch fiasco of the previous year. 

Then there was Rose. She’d obediently followed Minerva’s lead, and stood waiting for orders from Albus, although she looked annoyed at something. Albus hoped it was just the letter and not him. After all, he hadn’t seen her in weeks. No chance meetings in the middle of the night, no pleasant surprise appearances during the day. If not for her new locket, he’d have thought she’d been working on the final task all that time. Something about the locket with a large “S” on it struck him as familiar, but he couldn’t place it. 

Albus turned his attention back to the letter and impending crisis ahead of him. 

“If you’d just let me talk to her,” Septima said, “I’m sure—” 

“I’m sorry, Septima, but you may well make it worse.” 

Albus spoke softly, calmly. While Septima was normally calm, the subject of Hermione Granger’s safety made her… agitated. Surprisingly, Rose had been calm about the whole thing. No outbursts, no growled threats. It was just a little suspicious. 

“You can’t possibly know that!” Septima snapped. “I know I can get through to her.” 

“Without knowing her current state, we’ve got nothing to go on. I’ve seen this before, and it has never ended well. If we go in blind, we risk injuring her or one of us. She’s already unstable; I fear that may push her beyond help.” 

He waited patiently for Septima to take a step back. When she did, he knew she was finished trying to convince him it was a good idea to go in. With that settled, he turned to Minerva. 

“Are you sure none of her friends know about this?” he asked. “Apart from the obvious, of course.” 

“The Obvious” made no indication that she’d realized they were talking about her. Albus began to wonder if she hadn’t fallen asleep. 

“If Ms. Perks knew, she’d have asked me about it by now,” Minerva said. “If Mr. Weasley or Mr. Potter knew, Ms. Perks would be one of the first to find out. Alexandra tells me they are quite forthcoming with her. I doubt Ms. Weasley or Mr. Longbottom would’ve worked any of it out, and she wasn’t particularly close with either. I can’t speak for anyone outside of Gryffindor.” 

Albus felt guilty about keeping them in the dark about their friend, but the less they knew, the better. It was difficult for adults to rationalize a loved one losing control of her magic, never mind children. 

He turned to Rose, who met his gaze. 

“Only if they leave first,” she said, nodding to Septima and Minerva. 

Septima shot a glare at Rose. Minerva merely scowled at her. Given their history, Albus thought it showed great restraint on Minerva’s part. 

“Oh?” Albus asked. 

“You want to know what I can do about it,” Rose said. “You wouldn’t have bothered getting me involved if you weren’t going to ask. The first thing I would’ve done is growl something at you, then vanish to go fix it myself. So you’ve got nothing else.” 

Albus stared at her for a moment. He’d nearly perfected Occlumency, so he had confidence that not even her friend could get inside his mind. It still struck him as odd that those were almost his exact thoughts. 

“Septima, Minerva, please—” 

“I’m not going to stand by—” Septima began, but Minerva laid a hand on her shoulder. 

“Septima, it frustrates me just as much as you that Albus keeps secrets from all of us. But right now, I think that’s for the best. By keeping us in the dark, he’s letting us have hope.” 

She turned to him and gave him a glare that he was certain could see into his soul. Despite his best efforts, he could never perfectly replicate it. 

“I suspect that’s something he’s lost.” She turned back to her colleague. “There’s nothing left to do now except find Severus, go to the Hog’s Head, and talk about him behind his back with his brother.” 

“Do send my love,” Albus said. 

Minerva led Septima out of his office, leaving him alone with Rose. She picked up a chair, dragged it over to his desk, and sat down. 

“I know about Ariana,” she said. 

Something arose in him that he hadn’t properly felt in decades: fear. Just the tiniest flicker, then it was gone. The nausea he felt passed, and he focused on the task at hand. 

“What do you know?” he asked. 

“She was your sister, and she lost control of her magic after she was beaten,” Rose said. “She never recovered.” 

As much as it pained him to relive the terrible memories, Albus felt a sense of relief. He’d known Rose would find out sooner or later; at least he didn’t have to hide anything from her. 

He nodded to the locket, hoping to change the subject. 

“A gift from Sylvia?” 

“Sort of. I had to go out and get it, but she let me keep it.” 

“I think that’s enough catching up. Is there anything you can do?” 

“Like you said, going in blind is bad. Once I know what we’re dealing with, I can probably use _Serendipity_ to restore her mind. That’s what it’s all about with you lot, isn’t it?” 

“It appears that is the case here.” 

Rose nodded. 

“I’m sorry about what happened to your family.” 

They sat in silence after that. Albus found himself lost in thought. He remembered the image he saw in the Mirror of Erised three years ago: his family, together, happy. Unbroken by hate. He remembered Gellert and Aberforth. Being torn between them had felt like his own body was being ripped apart. 

Then he returned to his office, and looked down at the little girl in front of him. Torn between two sides. 

“Rose, do you know how Gellert Grindelwald is?” 

“The BBEG from your last campaign?” Rose asked. 

Albus smiled in spite of himself. It’d been a while since he’d heard Rose talk like that. 

“He was far more than another villain to me,” he said. “He was… a close friend. We were going to go far together, but I chose him over my family.” Albus stepped carefully through his memories, hoping his words weren’t lost on her. “Please, don’t make the same mistake I did.” 

Rose stared into space, avoiding his gaze. Slowly, she nodded her head. 

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “For everything, Professor.” 

* * *

Hermione sat on her floor, cradling her head in her hands. 

“It’s not real,” she whimpered. “It’s not real.” 

“It” towered over her, brandishing a club. It wasn’t like the troll that had attacked her; this one’s eyes were empty, vacant. There was nothing behind them. 

It lifted its club, but then the club turned into a snake. It wrapped its long body around the troll’s neck. The troll didn’t move; it stood still as the snake grew larger, its gold eyes burning holes in the dark. 

Hermione screamed when the troll fell to the floor next to her. As it fell, it burst into flames, taking the snake with it. They were ashes before they hit the ground. 

“It’s not real.” 

“What good are your books now?” 

She screamed again when she heard the Death Eater’s voice. She scrambled to get away from the wall as something melted out of it. It oozed out, forming into a featureless head, body, and hands. 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. None of it was real; she knew it wasn’t real, but it wouldn’t disappear. 

“You can’t stop me, Mudblood. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to hurt you.” 

“No!” 

More whispering came from behind her. An arm wrapped around her, then a hand grabbed hers. 

“No!” She struggled against it, but it was no use. It had her. 

“Please, no! Just leave me alone!” 

The hand held hers fast, then closed around her ring. 

Hermione flailed her legs uselessly. She tried slamming her head into her attacker, but she banged it into a brick wall. Dazed, she stopped her struggling, and the hand pulled off her ring. 

“ _I wish she were restored._ ” 

Sunlight like she’d never seen flooded her tiny room, which had changed back to its proper size. The hand, which wore a black and red welding glove, slipped the ring back on her finger. Then it joined the other arm in holding her tightly. 

“Rose,” she breathed. She clung to Rose’s arms as tightly as she could. “Am I glad to see you!” 

Hermione curled up and pressed herself into her friend. 

“It’s alright, Brain.” 

Tears streamed down Hermione’s face. She’d never cried so hard in her life, nor felt as safe as she did just then. She tightened her grip on Rose, praying that she never left her alone again. 

“It was horrible!” Hermione sobbed. “I was hallucinating again! There were these creatures, these things!” 

“You weren’t hallucinating Brain. I saw them too when I got here.” 

A whirlwind of emotions struck her, but fear conquered all else. A shrill scream escaped her lips, but Rose didn’t let go. Suddenly, Rose’s arms didn’t feel so safe. 

“I must’ve been! Unless…” Hermione struggled to break free of her friend’s grasp. “Unless you’re not real either!” 

She tried every muscle she had, pushing as hard as she could to break free. Hermione looked around desperately for something to use to help her, but darkness had set in again. 

“Somebody help!” she screamed as loud as she could. 

The walls grew bigger, taking the door far away. She couldn’t think, or rationalize anything. All she knew was that she was an animal, and that was the only way out of her cage. 

Hermione kicked and screamed, but the newest danger had her in its grasp. 

“ _I wish she were restored._ ” 

Just as quickly as the room had fallen apart, it snapped back together. She hadn’t even noticed that Rose had removed her ring again. 

Rose’s arms slid back from Hermione, then Hermione whirled around and backed away from her. 

“It’s me, Brain. You lost control of your magic, and you keep making those things real. You make the room bigger on the inside, you make it dark. All those things, you conjured them.” 

Hermione stared at Rose, trying to take in more air. Her head spun. She stared at Rose for nearly a minute before doubling over. Had she eaten anything in the past week, she’d have lost it then. 

While she was doubled over, begging for the nightmare to be over, she felt a hand rubbing her back. 

“I’m right here, Brain. Don’t be afraid.” 

Hermione sank to the floor, covered in a cold sweat. 

“I am afraid.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Can’t you make it stop?” 

She looked at Rose, but turned away when she saw pity in her eyes. Disappointment was bad enough; she didn’t need Rose’s pity along with it. 

“I wish I could Brain.” 

“You can just make me forget it all, can’t you? Can’t you take the memories away?” Hermione risked the look of pity again and pleaded with Rose. “Please. Please, Rose. I need you.” 

Rose shook her head. 

“Even if I took it all away, you’d forget what happens when you run in. You’d just try it again next time something like that happens.” 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and cried again. Fear consumed her every thought. All she wanted was for it all to go away. She struggled again, trying to clear her thoughts. 

“What about _mindrape_?” she asked. “If you change me, then I won’t run in again.” 

“I won’t do that, Brain. I will never do that to someone.” 

Hermione closed her eyes again and clutched her head. The nightmares were closing in around her, and no one could stop them. 

“Please, Rose! Just make it stop!” 

“It has stopped, Brain. Just open your eyes.” 

“No!” 

She curled into a ball. If Rose couldn’t help her, then she had no chance. Why wouldn’t Rose see that? 

“Why won’t you just help me?! You’ve got the scroll for it, haven’t you?!” 

“That scroll in my case casts _create water_.” 

“You’re lying!” 

“Valignatiejir kidnapped me so he could make me believe I was his spawn. With _shapechange_ , there’d be no reason to question it. All he had to do was to make me believe it, and he was going to use _mindrape_ to do it. Everything else was just to break me so he could! I will never do that to another person! Not even to save you!” 

“Then what’s the point of you?! Why come here?!” 

For once, Rose had no response. The only sound in the room was that of Hermione’s sobs. Slowly, she wore herself out. When she couldn’t cry anymore, she sat up and looked at Rose. 

“How’d you make them go away?” 

“I used _Serendipity_. I think it was _calm emotions_.” 

Hermione nodded, then doubled over again. With some help from Rose, she climbed onto her bed and laid flat on the sheets. 

“How long will it last?” 

“I don’t know. The first time didn’t last long, but I think you got worked up again.” 

“I thought you were one of the nightmares.” Hermione turned her eyes to Rose, then back when she discovered that it hurt to look anywhere but straight. “Why does everything hurt?” 

“I wish I could tell you.” 

“Is there anything you can tell me?” 

Rose sat on the floor where Hermione could see her. 

“The trauma from the World Cup is causing you to lose control of your magic. The more stressed out you get, the worse it is.” 

“I could’ve told you all that.” Hermione tried to smile, but it just made her sick. “Some nurse you are.” 

Rose tried smiling too, but it came out no better than Hermione’s. 

Hermione used the silence to start thinking again. She tried thinking of the future, but she could hardly remember what the rest of her house looked like, much less Hogwarts. 

“How’s everyone at school?” Hermione asked. “How’s Ron?” 

“I haven’t seen much of them since we all got back. Professor Dumbledore gave me a pass from class so I can work on the last task.” 

“Did Neville ever figure out that orb?” 

Rose nodded. “He figured out the first part. I made it a message with something called a Vigenere Cipher.” 

Hermione gave a faint laugh. “You monster. How were they supposed to work that out?” 

“I used their school as the key.” Rose grinned, although not as happily as she usually did. “Krum, Cedric, and Toad all worked together to figure that out. All according to plan.” 

“If you wanted them to work together, why not just break the message into four parts and give them a different part? Like every fourth letter?” 

Rose stared at her. 

“Never even occurred to you, did it?” Hermione smiled again, a task that she was finding easier with every passing minute. “That’s my friend, Rose. Over complicates everything to show off for her girlfriend.” 

Rose just smiled back at her. 

“I’m never going back, am I?” Hermione asked. 

“I don’t know. You’re in control now, and looking much better for it.” 

A dark tunnel opened up in her mind. She stared down the tunnel, but refused to go in, because she knew what lay inside. Thousands of nightmares waiting to haunt her life. Waiting to scare her to death. 

“It’s still there.” She felt tears in her eyes again. “I’m scared, Rose. I’m afraid that if I fall asleep, they’ll all come back.” 

Rose grinned her arrogant, annoying grin. Hermione wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she’d missed that grin. That grin told her everything would be alright. 

“I can fix that.” 

Rose pulled a bottle of gray fluid out of her basket. She placed it and a vial on Hermione’s nightstand. 

“Take that before you go to bed. You won’t dream anymore.” 

“Dreamless Sleep Potion?” Hermione asked. 

Rose nodded vigorously, beaming away at her. 

“I’ll check on you so I know how much you’ve got left. It should help you sleep for the next few weeks.” 

“What happens then? Even if I get control over this now, what happens the next time I’m upset? If Ron says something stupid again, I could kill him! Or if I get too stressed out about schoolwork… I can never go back!” 

For the second time that day, Rose was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say, but Hermione knew she had nothing. 

“We’ll think of something.” 

A darkness spread out over her mind, and all Hermione wanted to do was sleep. She picked up her head, wincing as another dull pain spread through her body. She downed some of the potion, then put her head back on her pillow. 

“I’ll let you rest,” Rose said. “See you later, Brain.” 

“Goodbye, Rose.” 

* * *

Ron glanced at the clock again. What was taking Rose so long? He had nothing to do that would take his mind off Hermione. It’d been a whirlwind for the past few hours. Finding Professor Dumbledore waiting for them outside of class had been bad enough, but then finding out how bad Hermione had gotten had made it impossible to think about anything else. 

His friends had no such problems. Sally-Anne was talking to Professor McGonagall about… something, Neville wouldn’t make a noise, Luna was drawing, and the only word he’d caught from Ginny and Harry was “Ellie”. 

It’d have helped him concentrate if they’d told him something other than “There’s a problem with Hermione”, but getting something out of the professors was just as pointed as getting something out of Rose. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing when Rose appeared in the center of the room. She walked to the front and took a seat on the desk. 

“A few weeks ago, Brain began losing control of her magic,” Rose said. “At first, it was only when she was asleep, but then it got worse, coming out when she was awake. She thought they were hallucinations, but I saw them too when I got there. I was able to calm her down enough to regain control of her magic and make them disappear.” 

Ron clenched his fist on his desk. Harry was right about Rose; something was happening with Hermione, and she never felt the need to tell anyone. 

“How long have you known about this?” Ron asked. 

He caught Sally-Anne glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Since this morning,” Rose replied. “I lost my eyes and ears in her house when her parents shut away Ana last month.” 

“Is Hermione alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“She’s got control back, but… she’s not quite alright.” 

“Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Vector hissed. 

“She’s resting now. I think the potion’s helping her, but I don’t think she’ll be coming back.” 

“For the time being, that would probably be best,” Professor Dumbledore said, cutting off anyone else in the room. “As I told Ms. Peta-Lorrum, this is a very delicate situation. We are all here because we care about Ms. Granger, so I understand that this news comes as a shock to all of you. Do not make rash decisions because of this.” 

After that they were free to go. That was it. Rose stayed to talk to Professor Dumbledore, but they weren’t allowed to listen. Ron tried to stay and eavesdrop, but Sally-Anne pulled him away the moment she could. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Ron glowered back at Sally-Anne. Why couldn’t she be helpful for once? 

“I’m fine.” 

“I will beat your feelings out of you if I have to. I know you, Ron. You’ll keep this bottled up as long as you can, no matter what the harm to yourself or anyone else.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at him. It still wasn’t the same as Hermione’s smile. When Hermione smiled at him, it filled him with confidence. Like the smartest person he knew was telling him that he was just as brilliant as she was. When Sally-Anne smiled at him, it was just because she pitied him. 

“What’s it matter?” 

“You’re my friend, and you really like Hermione. At the end of the ball, I’ve never seen you two so happy.” 

“So? Rose said she’s not coming back.” 

“It’s going to be awhile before any of us sees Hermione again, but you can’t just give up hope. We’ve got Rose and Professor Dumbledore on the job. She’s going to be just fine.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at him again before heading off with Ginny. 

* * *

Hermione looked out her window as more guests arrived. It was her dad’s 50th birthday, so everyone was invited. Everyone except her. They’d agreed that it was better for her if she stayed upstairs. As far as anyone else knew, she had the flu. 

She turned her gaze, and her thoughts, away from the guests. She’d been without incident for nearly a week, ever since Rose had been to her house. Her parents would stop by every night to check up on her. She hadn’t spoken a word to them since. 

Thoughts of her friends drifted into her mind, and she wondered how they were. She longed to see them again, to hear their voices. She even missed Luna’s nonsensical ramblings about whatever imaginary creature about which her dad had told her. 

Most of all, she missed Ron. Even though she knew he would say or do something stupid within the first 24 hours, she still longed to be part of it. That just made it all the more rewarding when he finally learned his lesson. She wished they’d kept up his practice with summoning at the end of their second year. He hadn’t needed it, but it would’ve been a chance to have spent more time with him. Sitting on her bed, she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again. 

A knock on her door drew her attention away from thoughts of Hogwarts. 

“Pssst! Hermione! It’s me!” 

“Estelle?” 

“I’m here to bust you out!” 

_That’s either Estelle, or Rose imitating her voice._

“I’m not being held prisoner, I’m sick.” 

“I know that, but it’s more fun to pretend you’re a princess locked in a tower.” 

Hermione knew right away she wasn’t imagining things; there was no possible way her mind had devised this. 

“Doesn’t a prince usually do that?” 

“Why should the boys get to have all the fun?” 

_Now she just sounds like Ginny. That I could’ve devised on my own._

“If you come in here, I could get you sick.” 

“So? I’ve been sick before. Please! Everyone else is boring!” 

Hermione sighed and held her head in her hands. 

_Rose, you’re not allowed around my family anymore._

“It’s open.” 

Her door creaked open and Estelle slipped inside. She’d grown since Hermione had last seen her. Dark, curly hair and freckles covered her face along with a broad grin. She held Crookshanks in her arms, who looked remarkably comfortable for being held by a stranger. 

“You don’t look sick,” she said as she sat down on Hermione’s bed. “Are you sure you’re sick?” 

“No, Estelle. I’m actually a witch who’s lost control of her magic, so they locked me away in the tall tower so I don’t kill anyone.” 

“Oh, okay.” She looked around the room. “Is Rose here?” 

“No, she’s at school.” 

_Where I should be._

Estelle frowned. 

“Why’s she at school on a Sunday?” 

“It’s a boarding school. She’s there all year, except during the winter and summer holidays.” 

Estelle nodded, clearly paying more attention to Crookshanks than to Hermione. She looked around and the clutter of her room, then spotted Hermione’s books. 

“You’ve got books!” 

“Yes, just like the last time you were here. You said they were stupid.” 

“You didn’t tell me there were good books!” 

“Good books?” 

“Like ones about magic and castles,” she said in a matter-of-fact way that only children could manage. 

_My life is the book about magic and castles._

“There aren’t any in here, but there are some in the spare bedroom.” 

Estelle looked around her room in disappointment. “It’s boring up here!” 

“Yup. Nice and boring.” 

“Boring isn’t nice!” 

“It’s quite nice,” Hermione said a little more condescendingly than she’d intended. “It’s nice and safe.” 

“You sound like a grownup!” 

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at her. 

“Sorry.” 

She glanced down at her cousin and saw her frowning at something. Hermione looked in the same direction, but didn’t see anything. 

“Something wrong?” 

“Do grownups make mistakes?” 

The odd question took her a moment to grasp. Then she realized there was a reason Estelle had sought her out. 

“That’s a strange question to ask. Do you think someone made a mistake?” 

Estelle nodded. “Mummy and Daddy don’t want to tell me, but I listen when they don’t think I’m awake. I think Daddy lost his job.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Hermione said. 

“Mummy says we should ask Uncle Dan and Aunt Emma for money until he finds a new job, but he doesn’t want anyone’s help. He always says to go for help when I need it. Why won’t he ask for help?” 

“Some people are like that,” Hermione said, putting her arm around her little cousin. “I’ve got this friend called Ron that’s just like that. He nearly… nearly got himself hurt because of it.” 

Estelle held Crookshanks closer. Crookshanks gave a quiet meow in protest, but made no effort to leave. 

“Tell me about these books you’ve got,” Hermione said, hoping to change the subject to something less depressing. 

“I got a bunch of them for Hanukkah this year.” 

“Right, your mum’s Jewish.” 

“Nine days of presents!” Estelle exclaimed, throwing her arms up just long enough for Crookshanks to escape to Hermione’s lap. “No! Kitty!” 

“Your dad still celebrates Christmas?” Hermione asked as Crookshanks curled up in her lap. 

“I get one present every day of Hanukkah, and one on Christmas!” Estelle said like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

It dawned on Hermione that she’d spent so much time in the Magical World that she’d completely lost touch with the rest of her family. She must’ve known about that before, but she’d forgotten everything about them. They had their own problems, just like hers. 

“This year, I got books about castles and knights and magic! Just like that story Rose told me!” 

“Yeah. She’s got one of those personalities that sucks you in,” Hermione said more to herself than to Estelle. “I’m glad you’re interested. I’ve always loved books.” 

She smiled at her bookshelves. Most of their contents lay scattered across her floor, but the memories were still there. Every time she’d come home crying from school, only to get lost inside a story. She loved reading and learning, and at that moment, she began wondering why she’d let someone else take it all away from her. 

Hermione turned back to Estelle, who was looking gloomily at the floor. 

“We’re gonna have to move,” she said. She shook her head. “I don’t want to move.” 

Hermione put her arm around her cousin. Rose had once done the same for her. More than once, she realized after thinking about it. 

“I wasn’t allowed to go to school this year. It felt like moving away. Then I found out my friend Luna’s going to be moving to America in a few months. It’s… it’s hard to have to say goodbye.” 

Estelle started to cry. Hermione thought fast of something to say to cheer her up, but she couldn’t get her mind to work right. 

A thought struck her. Her heart raced at the idea of it, but she knew she had no other choice. She couldn’t think of it on her own. 

Hermione looked down at Crookshanks. He looked back at her, then she nodded towards the corner of the room. Crookshanks knew exactly what she was asking, and in another minute, he padded over to her, her hair clip in his mouth. 

A rush slammed into her like a bus when she put it on, but she fought hard to keep her mind under control. Thousands of thoughts flooded her head, but she found it easy to move them aside while she searched for an answer. 

At last, she found it. It was the smallest glimmer of hope, but she knew it would work. 

“Don’t worry, Estelle,” she said. “I’ll fix it.” 

Estelle rubbed her eyes as Crookshanks hopped back into her lap. She looked up at Hermione. Seeing her cousin in such pain melted Hermione. She held her tightly, hoping to provide the comfort her friends had always provided her. 

“You will?” 

“Of course.” Hermione grinned a toothy, Rose grin. “I can fix anything.” 

A few minutes later, Hermione’s mum came upstairs looking for Estelle. By then, the girls had started talking about castles, something Hermione was glad of. With the hair clip, she could remember everything about Hogwarts, and her knowledge of all the secret hiding places fascinated her cousin. Most importantly, her mum found them laughing together, something Hermione hadn’t done in months. 

After everyone left, Hermione left her room for the first time since she’d hurled her parents against the wall. It felt foreign to her to walk down the stairs. But she settled in at the kitchen table and spoke with her parents. 

“Estelle said her parents might need to move.” 

“Your Aunt Lois mentioned that,” her mum said. 

“I thought… I thought she’ll be going through the same thing I am. She’ll have to leave all her friends and have a whole new life. It’s not fair for me, but it’s not fair for her either, because there’s nothing anyone can do about it. What happened to me is all my fault, and I’m the one that suffers the consequences. They didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“You of all people should know how unfair life is.” 

“Oh, I know, but I think I can make it a little less unfair for them.” 

That got her parents’ attention. They frowned, exchanged glances, then both eyed her. 

“How?” her mum asked. 

“And know that even if you can, you can’t go back to Hogwarts,” her dad added. 

Hermione shook her head. “That’s not why. It’s because I want to be like Rose. Not run-in-and-get-myself-killed Rose, but fix-my-friends’-problems Rose. I can’t do that if I’m not alright myself, so I want to get better. But I know how to fix this without being better.” 

“Once again: how?” her mum asked. 

Hermione explained her plan to her parents and why she knew it would work. When she finished, she ran up to her room and grabbed the _condition conch_. 

<Taltria, I need you to get a message to Mrs. Perks for me.>

* * *

Rose sat on a staircase, feeling the strange material. It looked like marble, but it didn’t feel like it. Humans were so weird in her adopted world. 

A door opened behind her, echoing down the large staircase. Unfortunately, her new friend didn’t have her own room in the hotel, so they’d had to meet somewhere out of the way. Contrary to Shadow’s claims, Rose was the best at stealth. 

“I think she’s better,” Estelle said. Her face lit up with excitement. “She’s got a kitty!” 

Rose smiled, a little envious of Estelle’s innocence. 

“You might’ve saved her life,” Rose told her. “You should be proud.” 

“I’m a hero, too! Just like Carolina!” 

Rose laughed at the thought of her friend. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her. Those bright, haunting green eyes, so full of kindness and warmth. Had she still had blood, Rose would’ve blushed at the thought of them. 

“She said she can stop my parents from moving,” Estelle said. “Can she?” 

Rose nodded. 

“She can. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can always count on Brain to have the answer.” She grinned. “Wanna hear another story?” 

Rose wasn’t sure she’d ever been as excited about anything as Estelle was at that moment. 

* * *

A few days later, Hermione’s father ran in to the living room where Hermione and her mum were sitting. 

“Uncle Paul called,” he said. “That was him on the phone. Apparently, someone turned up out of the blue with the offer of a lifetime. They offered him a job on the spot. They won’t have to sell their house or move.” 

“That’s brilliant!” her mum exclaimed. 

They both turned to Hermione, who was a little more smug than she intended to be. 

“How’d she do it?” her mum asked. 

“Sally-Anne hasn’t a clue,” Hermione said. “She doesn’t know what her mum does, only that she gets things done.” She paused for a moment, not sure if she wanted to talk about the past few months. “I’m sorry I threw you both into a wall.” 

“There were no broken bones,” her dad said. “Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know, but I will be,” Hermione said. 

She glanced up on the mantle and saw the photo from the ball. She’d seen it before, but still wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk about it. At that moment, she decided she was finally ready. 

“I mentioned that Rose built the first task. She didn’t seal it off, and Ron got inside.” 

She’d kept her hair clip out of her hair, lest she risk another incident. She was glad of it, otherwise the thought of Ron nearly dying might’ve set her off. 

“Was he alright?” her mum asked. 

“We got to him before he did any permanent damage, which I think is a lot harder with magic. I stayed with him in the Hospital Wing that night, and he asked me to the ball.” She smiled, then started laughing at the thought of her stupid friend. “The idiot said it was a good thing when we were dancing, and I stormed off. Alex talked me down, and Sally-Anne talked him up.” 

“Sounds like it all worked out in the end.” Her mum smiled back at her. “You should write to him and let him know you’re alright. I’m sure he’s worried.” 

Hermione nodded. “I’m sure he’ll never admit it, but you’re right.” 

“So are we going to be seeing more of Ronald?” her dad asked. 

“I don’t see how. He’s at Hogwarts, where I’m not allowed, and I’m here, where he’s not allowed.” 

“I think your father means to ask if you two are dating.” 

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve thought about it. He’s really nice, and he was so sweet at the ball, which is unlike him. I think he was really trying, but I can’t drag him into all this any more than I already have.” 

“That’s a very mature perspective, Hermione,” her mum said. 

“I guess I was a little overdue for it,” Hermione said, smiling. 

None of them said anything after that. Hermione returned to her book, which she read once through with the bracelet, just because she could, then moved on to another one when she was finished. 

Well after the sun had gone down, her father put down his own book and cleared his throat. 

“Let’s write to Professor Dumbledore. He seems competent, despite his school’s shortcomings.” 

“None of which were his fault. If you want to point a finger, the Ministry’s—” 

“Let me finish,” her dad said. “Let’s see if he’s got an idea about what to do now. Hogwarts obviously means a great deal to you, and… and if we hadn’t written to them, who knows what would’ve happened.” 

Hermione nodded neutrally. She knew better than to get her hopes up about going back. But a glimmer of hope was better than nothing. 


	20. Problem Solving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many problems are solved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** To solve the problem of giving credit where credit is due, I remind you all that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Luna glanced down at her mum’s notes for the third time. She held her wand at the ready, checking one last time to ensure that she had the pattern right. 

Her forehead tingled as she traced the runes with her wand. She’d traced the pattern dozens of times before drawing it on herself, so she was confident she could do it. 

“ _Runic tattoos are tricky magic,_ ” her mum’s notes read. “ _Your body will power them on its own, so long as you power your body. I made the mistake of not exercising when I first used them, and went through what I’ve dubbed ‘runic withdrawal’. That’s when your body spends all its energy powering the runes, and there’s none left for you. I noticed increased appetite (Xene and Moon were thrilled that I ate whatever they cooked), and of course, less energy._ ” 

Luna paused for a moment, checking her reflection against the reflection of the runic cluster she was tracing. When she was satisfied, she continued, letting her mind wander back to her mum’s work. 

“ _This cluster I’ve found most fascinating. Some runic tattoos will have different effects depending on where they’re placed on the body. This one only seems to do anything (that I’ve noticed) when placed on the forehead. I noticed my sight, hearing, and smell were all heightened when I applied it. I thought it would improve my sense of touch if placed on my hands, but I didn’t notice anything. ~~Perhaps if I place it on my fingers.~~ Placing on fingers did not work. Do not try. IT DOES NOT WORK._ ” 

The pattern resembled the Shield Rune, but with different dips and grooves on the interlocking circles. There was also a single dot in the center of it, which her mum said needed to be drawn last. The moment she jabbed her forehead with her wand, a loud ringing shot through her ears. The lights in the bathroom flared for a moment, then died back down. She shielded her eyes as they adjusted. 

What overwhelmed her most were the smells. The dominant smell was that of stone, but she could smell the copper pipes, residual soap from her roommates’ showers, and four distinct smells she suspected were her roommates. 

Luna turned the page of her mum’s notes, and found that two of them had stuck together. 

“ _Warning: Takes time to adjust to heightened senses. People gave me strange looks. Probably shouldn’t have done this right before attending a conference. Can now smell what Xene makes for dinner before opening the door. Moon, if you’re ever reading this, marry a man (or woman, I’m not picky) who can cook. Or learn to cook yourself. Better to marry a cook. There’s nothing more satisfying than coming home from a long day and having a handsome man and beautiful little girl waiting for you with your favorite meal prepared. Your smiling faces helped me push forward in the worst of times. Now must find pain killers before headache gets worse._ ” 

Luna smiled through her own headache. Princess’s smile cheered her up too. So did Carolina’s, when she was lucky enough to dream about her. At that particular moment, she had a worried homunculus to keep her spirits up. 

<Are you alright, Moon?>

<I’m okay. Mum says this is normal. I think I know how Rose feels sometimes.>

Luna struggled to her feet, shielding her eyes from the bright lights around her. 

“Off, please!” 

The light in the bathroom faded away, giving her relief from one of her newly heightened senses. She picked up her mum’s notes, still having a clear idea where everything was, and left the bathroom. She returned her mum’s notes to the safety of her pack, then slung it over her shoulder. 

“Right.” Luna looked down at Tutela. “Now I need to start exercising. Wanna go for a walk?” 

Tutela’s ears perked up. 

<Must I wear the leash again?>

“Oh no, not in Hogwarts.” 

Tutela wagged her tail. 

<Then yes. I would greatly enjoy a walk.>

* * *

At the same time, a group of Gryffindors were also awake. With the common room devoid of other people, they had free rein to sit around the fire, or on the couch, or anywhere else they desired. 

“Ginny, I swear, if you climb that bookcase, I’ll get Professor McGonagall!” Sally-Anne snapped. 

Almost anywhere. Ginny pouted as she stopped her attempts at climbing the bookcase to see what was on top of it. 

Neville glanced away from the riddle to see why Sally-Anne was shouting at Ginny, then returned to it. It seemed like years ago after everything with Hermione. He was still a little worried about her. If something happened to him in the tournament, it wasn’t as if they were losing anyone important. If anything worse happened to her, he hated to think what Rose would do. It would tear her apart. 

All that had just been a week ago. He hadn’t told the others anything about the riddle; he’d hardly looked at it since figuring out what it said. Every time he did, he’d think about Rose and couldn’t focus. He’d hardly seen her either, but with a week to go before the second task, he had to work on it. 

“Any luck?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Neville looked up at his friend. He enjoyed feeling that someone cared, even if it did feel fake from her. She only cared because she had to, not because she actually cared. 

“Thanks to Luna, I know what it says,” Neville said. “Now—” 

“How did she know?” Ginny snapped from her new spot in front of the fire. 

Neville shrugged. “She said she just knows about codes and things.” 

“It’s just another Luna thing,” Sally-Anne said. “No reason to shout.” 

Neville looked from Sally-Anne to Ginny, then back to the paper in front of him. 

“Now I’ve got to work out what it means.” 

Sally-Anne read over the riddle. She frowned at it for a moment, then turned to Ron. 

“Ron, I think we could use your help.” 

Ron looked up from the chess match he was apparently playing against himself. 

“What for?” 

“You’re good with logic, and I think that’s just what we need.” 

Ron looked back to his game, made another move, then stood up and joined Neville on the couch. He scanned the riddle, then pointed to the first line. 

“ _I am pale with grief, but I never weep._ That first part probably just means white. Or something with a face. _I fade in the light, but thrive in the dark._ That second part’s a bit confusing.” 

“How would you figure it out?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Probably just list off everything that fit one of the clues, and then use that to figure out what fits both.” 

“There you are, Neville,” Sally-Anne said. “Why don’t we all try that?” She turned to Ginny. “Ginny, would you like to help?” 

“No.” 

“What’s white with a face?” Neville asked. 

“Clocks are used in these sort of riddles all the time in stories,” Sally-Anne offered. 

“But that doesn’t ‘fade in the light’,” Neville said. “What does that?” 

“Candles fade in brighter light,” Ron said. 

“Why would it be candles?” Ginny snapped. “That’s stupid!” 

“Oi!” 

“If you’re not going to help, then go to your room!” 

“You can’t make me go to my room!” 

“No, but if you’re going to be disruptive, I can fetch Stacy, and she’ll make you go to your room.” 

Neville tried to tune them out. Ron had a good point; the only thing he could think of that faded in light was another light. Maybe it was fire? No, it wasn’t “pale with grief”. The stars faded in the day. Maybe… 

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, breaking through the noise of the others’ bickering. 

“What is it?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“No time to explain!” 

He raced up the stairs to his room where he housed the orb itself. 

“ _If you learn my identity, I will show you your next task,_ ” he recited. “I bet I need to let it hit the orb.” 

When he reached his room, he grabbed the orb out of his pack. Then he ran over to the window and flung it open, allowing the light of the full moon to reach it. 

The orb glowed blue when the moonlight touched it, then images began to appear. 

First, he saw a clock indicating eleven o’clock, which faded to an image of the Great Lake. In the image, he descended into the depths of the lake, coming to an abandoned underwater civilization. A platform stood at the middle of the ruins, upon which there were four people tied to poles. He couldn’t see the faces of the people, but they weren’t struggling, so he assumed they were unconscious. 

The people became smaller as the view changed to show the ruins again, revealing underwater mines around the ruins. The four prisoners vanished from the platform, and a large vortex descended on the ruins, taking the mines with it. It all grew smaller and smaller as he returned to the surface, then the clock reappeared showing twelve o’clock. The moment the minute hand struck twelve, the whole thing was washed away, leaving the orb as it was. 

When it finished, Neville muttered one word to summarize his opinion on the second task. 

“ _Dürah._ ” 

* * *

Luna learned that her mum hadn’t been kidding. While it was fun having heightened senses, she quickly learned that she couldn’t easily be around people. At least, not the Great Hall. 

She smelled breakfast long before she reached the Great Hall. She’d never thought an ordinary breakfast would smell so wonderful. Not just the food, but she could pick out the spices they’d used. Her mouth watered, and her stomach growled. Odd, considering she didn’t need to eat. 

The noise became unbearable before she got there. She forced herself inside, lest she risk worrying her friends. After a quick check that her hair was covering her forehead, she went inside and found a seat at the Ravenclaw table. 

She gathered food for herself, hoping to sate her appetite before going to class. History of Magic was always harder on an empty stomach. After she’d had a bit to eat, Luna sat and listened. She could hear everything, everyone. Even the small whispers the teachers gave one another. She was glad to have avoided conversation; she doubted she’d have been able to hear anyone talking to her. 

Her sense of smell was still the most important. According to her research, animals communicated through smell, sight, and sound, in much different ways than humans did. With her improved senses, she’d have an easier time communicating with the animals in class. That thought stayed in her mind through History of Magic, which she found a peaceful change from the Great Hall. 

They didn’t do much with animals that day in Care for Magical Creatures. While she was a little disappointed, she knew she’d get her fill soon. 

“Ms. Lovegood, I’ll be seeing you Wednesday morning,” Professor Hagrid said as she was leaving. “Remember, nine o’clock sharp. They don’t like to be kept waiting.” 

Luna smiled and nodded. 

“What’s that about?” Firecracker asked. 

“I’m helping Professor Hagrid tend to the thestrals. He says I’ve got a knack for animals.” 

“Of course you have,” Firecracker muttered. 

Had Luna not had the rune, she would’ve missed it, along with a new smell. She wrinkled her nose at the stench. It was unfamiliar and foul, but faded away into the background of the castle’s smell. 

* * *

“Professor Sprout, have you got any gillyweed?” Neville asked at the end of class on Tuesday. 

“I personally haven’t, but I believe Professor Snape does,” Professor Sprout said. “Why?” 

“Because it’s the best thing I can think of that would let me breathe underwater,” he replied. 

“Has this got anything to do with the Triwizard Tournament?” Professor Sprout asked. 

“I’m not allowed to say.” 

“Well… Your best bet for gillyweed is with Professor Snape.” 

Neville frowned and let out a low grown. 

“I understand your sentiment,” Professor Sprout said. She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Best of luck.” 

“Thanks.” 

He walked out of the greenhouse where his friends were waiting for him. 

“What was that about?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Just checking if she had something.” 

“What’s gillyweed?” Harry asked. 

“It’s–” 

“It’s a plant that allows a person that eats it to breathe underwater,” Ron said. 

“That,” Neville said. 

“Is that the next task?” Sally-Anne asked. “You never said.” 

“Why else would he need gillyweed?” Ron asked. 

“I just thought I’d ask, but she hasn’t got any,” Neville said. “It’s the only thing I can think of that would help me breathe underwater for an hour.” 

He winced as he realized just how much of the task he’d let slip. 

“Why not ask Rose?” Sally-Anne asked. “My dress lets me breathe underwater forever. She could–” 

“No,” Neville said faster than he’d intended. “I don’t know if I’d have taken any from Professor Sprout if she’d had any. I don’t know how I can get some, but I’m sure I can just figure out a spell for it.” 

“So you’re going to ask Hermione?” 

“I don’t know,” Neville said. “I’ve got a free period now, so I’ll have to think of something.” 

Neville wasn’t sure if he wanted help. He wasn’t supposed to have help, but he’d had so much already, it didn’t seem like anyone cared. It wasn’t as if he could work it out on his own. 

He spent his free period in the library with Ron, who listed off every solution known to Wizardkind that he could use. The only solution that didn’t require his wand was gillyweed, which they’d already determined wasn’t possible. 

“Any luck?” Sally-Anne asked when she and Harry arrived for Potions. 

“No,” Neville said. 

“There might be runes you could use,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Ron already thought of that,” Neville said. 

“They’d either have to be carved into the sword,” Ron said, “which is impossible, drawn on the sword, which wouldn’t last, or drawn on Neville, which he couldn’t power long enough. Even if he charged them, the charge likely wouldn’t hold for an hour.” 

“And you can’t use jellyweed–” 

“Gillyweed,” Ron corrected. 

“–because you can’t get it.” 

“Right,” Neville said. “Only one person in Hogwarts has got any on hand.” 

“Who?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Prof–” 

“If you’d care to stop your mindless chatter, Longbottom, the rest of us would like to deal with real problems.” 

Neville spent Potions thinking of ways he could steal gillyweed from Professor Snape. He didn’t want to, but it was his only option for getting it. 

He also let his mind wander to Rose’s whereabouts. She hadn’t been in class all day, nor had she told them where she was going. Hermione wasn’t there, otherwise she would’ve told them. He was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be there to watch the next task, but as it stood at that moment, that was probably for the best. 

* * *

Sally-Anne sat down with Professor Dumbledore in his office the next morning. It felt like she’d only just been there talking to him, and she was already being called back. 

“How’s your work going?” he asked. 

“I’ve got teams for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang,” Sally-Anne said, pulling out her roster, “but I’m stuck on Hogwarts.” 

She handed him the list, then sat quietly while he reviewed it. The seconds turned into minutes, and Sally-Anne began to feel nervous. She reminded herself that she’d done a good job collecting the information, even if she hadn’t finished. 

_Cho’s name isn’t there. She’s one of the best._

She had names from Durmstrang thanks to Viktor, and names from Beauxbatons thanks to her new friend Jean, Beauxbatons’s Quidditch expert. For Hogwarts, she had Madame Hooch’s expert opinion, along with Lee Jordan and unexpected help from Eugene Jenkins, a member of Slytherin and Jean’s Quidditch buddy. 

According to all of them, Cho was the ideal choice from Ravenclaw. That was because they didn’t know how the game would be played in her case; Cho was a Seeker, not a Chaser. 

_Then put Angelina for Gryffindor, not Harry._

“I see,” Professor Dumbledore said at last, bringing her out of her thoughts. “You have Mr. Potter and Ms. Johnson under Gryffindor, and the three Chasers under Ravenclaw.” He turned his gaze to her, his eyes digging into her mind and unraveling her thoughts. “That isn’t because you’re jealous that Mr. Potter liked Ms. Chang and not you, is it?” 

Panic and embarrassment rushed to the surface, followed soon after by nausea. Emotion threatened to consume her, but she fought it all back down. Sally-Anne closed her eyes and breathed, forcing herself to calm down. 

“You’ve got to tell me how you’re doing that,” Sally-Anne said. 

_I can do that, but I can read minds. Wait, can Professor Dumbledore read minds? It wouldn’t surprise me if he could._

Dumbledore looked left, then right, ensuring that no one apart from his bird was listening to them. 

“I’ve been headmaster here for a long time, Ms. Perks, and a professor before that. I’ve watched the students carefully in that time, and I’ve learned that people aren’t necessarily that different from one another. There are many telltale signs in people that betray even their darkest secrets. Adults may be able to hide such signs, but students such as yourself and your friends aren’t aware of most of them. That’s how I know. It’s how I knew that Mr. Potter would be spending breakfast with Ms. Langley, and how I knew that Mr. Weasley would be sulking about Ms. Granger. And it’s how I knew that you would hesitate before placing Mr. Potter on the team, despite your feelings for him.” 

Sally-Anne averted her gaze and hoped her blush didn’t show too much. 

“It’s also how I knew you’d feel upset by not performing the task properly.” 

Dumbledore eyed her over his half-moon spectacles. Sally-Anne felt the sudden urge to shrink down in her chair. She hadn’t screwed up that much, had she? No, she had. Her stupid crush on Harry had gotten in the way of her performing her duties, but no more. She straightened her posture, despite feeling like a 10-year-old again. 

“My apologies, but if I may, I’d like to make it up.” 

“I figured you would.” 

“Cho Chang would make an exceptional pick for the team. According to Eugene, she’s one of the best. Harry thinks so too, but he’s got… ulterior motives.” 

“Well said.” Dumbledore wrote Cho’s name on the roster and circled it. “Anything else?” 

“I think Harry would be the right choice from Gryffindor. Angelina gets competitive about Quidditch, but Harry’s had loads of practice teaching and working with others. He’s brilliant at it, and you’ve got to go no further than Professor McGonagall for proof. He may not be the better flier, but he’ll be the better person.” 

Professor Dumbledore noted this on the roster as well. She waited for his reaction, hoping he’d catch it if she’d made a mistake, but none came. 

“That takes care of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw,” he said. “Now, on to Slytherin.” 

“They don’t get along with anyone,” Sally-Anne said. “The way Eugene described it, it’s sort of like their team’s just an arrangement. They don’t like each other, but they do what they’ve got to so they can win.” 

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of his face and stared off in thought. 

“That poses a problem.” He placed his hands on his desk and smiled his practiced, loving smile. “But not one we need to deal with right this second. Thank you, Ms. Perks, for your hard work.” 

Sally-Anne stood up, instinctively straightening her dress. She curtsied, then turned to leave. 

“One more thing, Ms. Perks.” 

Sally-Anne turned back to Professor Dumbledore. 

“Don’t tell anyone about my secret. Particularly Ms. Peta-Lorrum. I enjoy her look of exasperation when I do that to her.” 

Sally-Anne pressed her lips together and brought a hand to her mouth. It was all she could do to stop from laughing out loud. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Professor,” she said once she’d composed herself. 

* * *

While Sally-Anne was talking to Professor Dumbledore, Luna was enjoying feeding thestrals. 

“No sudden moves, now,” Professor Hagrid said. “They startle easy.” 

Luna could smell their hesitation, and if she listened hard enough, hear it in their heartbeats. She crouched down, making herself less intimidating. Slowly, they came to her, and she offered them pieces of raw meat. 

“Well done,” Hagrid said. “I knew you had the gift.” 

Luna smiled as more of the thestrals approached her. She tossed each of them some food, which they happily took before trotting off. 

She glanced behind her and saw Tutela pacing along the outside of the forest. Her loyal companion was charged with keeping an eye out, and that’s exactly what she did. 

One small thestral tottered over to her. Another larger thestral stood nearby. Luna got a new array of smells, which she figured was something to warn her that she was dealing with a parent and its child. 

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “I’m nice.” 

The young one nuzzled her with its snout before taking the meat back to its parent. Luna looked happily on at the content thestrals. 

A twig snapped and Luna, Tutela, and the thestrals looked in the same direction. The parent thestral moved between its child and the sound, and Tutela crept up next to Luna. 

“Something’s got them spooked,” Hagrid said. 

“Someone’s here,” Luna whispered, sniffing the air. The intruder didn’t smell of stone and dust, unlike everyone else from the castle. They didn’t smell of lavender and honey, as the Beauxbatons students all did, or of wood and ash, which lingered around all the Durmstrang students. They were new. 

Another twig snapped, farther away. The smell disappeared, but the tension remained. 

“Where are they?” Hagrid asked. “I don’t see anything.” 

“They’re gone.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Tutela told me,” she said quickly as Tutela padded over to the edge of the thestral herd. She sat down and watched the forest. 

“I think we’re about done for today,” Hagrid said. “Good work, Luna.” 

“Thank you, Professor. I was happy to help.” 

* * *

Whereas Sally-Anne and Luna met with professors they liked, Neville had received a summons by Professor Snape. He dreaded to think why. Neville tried shoving the thought out of his head; it couldn’t be too bad. Like Rose had told him, Snape couldn’t do anything outside of class. 

Professor Snape sat at his desk. The only decoration on it was a single case, no bigger than Neville’s fist. 

“You… you wanted to see me?” Neville asked. 

Professor Snape opened the case. 

“Do you know what this is?” 

Neville glanced at the tangled mess of seaweed. It was the one thing Neville needed more than anything. 

“Gillyweed.” 

“I’ve had this particular specimen for three years, and have never once had reason to use it,” Professor Snape said. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve got quite a reason to want it.” 

“I guess.” 

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not allowed to help you, so I can’t give you this one.” 

“Why–” 

“Sometimes, these things go missing. If this one were to vanish if I turned my back for a moment, as I said, I wouldn’t miss it.” 

Neville couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Professor Snape was all but telling him to steal something. 

“Now I’ve got some important inventory to assess, which will only take a few seconds. I don’t expect to see you here when I’m finished.” 

Professor Snape turned to the back of the classroom. 

Neville grabbed the gillyweed and ran out of the room as fast as he could. He bolted down the corridor and out of the Dungeons. He only skidded to a halt when he nearly ran into Sally-Anne. A few floors up. 

“What’s the hurry?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Nothing.” Neville looked behind him, half expecting to see Snape floating after him. “How’d your meeting with Professor Dumbledore go?” 

“Alright, I suppose. What about Professor Snape? What did he want?” 

Neville considered telling her about it, but decided against it. He wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing, and Sally-Anne was always self-righteous about everything. Or was that Hermione? 

“Just to tell me how horrible I am at Potions,” Neville said. 

“Seems odd that he’d want to call you down just for that,” Sally-Anne said. 

Neville offered a shrug. 

“While I’ve got you here, what’s going on with you and Ginny?” 

Neville froze for a moment, thinking about her question. He couldn’t think of anything, and he was still on edge from his “meeting” with Snape. 

“Nothing. Why?” 

“You two went to the ball together.” 

“Oh, that. We just went as friends. I couldn’t go alone, since I’m a champion, so I asked Ginny, like you said.” 

Sally-Anne looked at him, expecting more to his answer. He frowned at her, not sure why. 

“And the rest of it?” 

“What else would there be?” 

“Are you two dating?” 

“What? No! We’re just friends. I just needed a date, that’s all.” 

She gave him a stern look, but not nearly as menacing as McGonagall always did. 

“Does she know that?” 

“I think—” 

“Did you tell her that?” 

Her expression hardened, and Neville got a bad feeling. He took a step back, adrenaline beginning its course through his body. 

“No?” 

“Then I doubt she realizes it. I can’t tell you who to like, but I can tell you all about pining away for someone who will never return your feelings.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’re still hung up on Rose, and I can tell you from experience, it’s only going to hurt you more the longer you hold on.” 

Grief came over him and he sank back a little. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at him. “It’s alright. It’s not the end of the world.” Her smile broadened. “Trust me, we’ve nearly faced that, and we all came out alright. The person you like not noticing you…” 

The smile faded from Sally-Anne’s face. Neville didn’t know what he’d done, but he liked seeing Sally-Anne smile. It didn’t inspire confidence in him like Rose’s did, but it let him know he hadn’t completely screwed up, even if it was mostly out of pity. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” Her smile returned. “I was thinking of something else. Never mind that, how’s your work going on the next task?” 

For once, Neville was happy to talk about it. He decided it’d be alright to tell her. 

“I got gillyweed from Snape.” 

Sally-Anne’s eyes narrowed. 

“How?” 

He then decided he’d been wrong. 

“Erm… that’s hard to explain.” 

“You didn’t steal it, did you?” she hissed. 

“No. I mean, probably not. Is it stealing if–” 

“Yes!” she hissed. “If you’ve got to ask if it’s stealing, then it’s stealing!” She pointed in the direction from which he’d come. “March back down to the Dungeons, apologize, and give it back!” 

“I don’t think he wants it,” Neville said. “He can’t give it to me, so he told me he’d turn his back and wouldn’t care if it was still there when he looked again.” 

Sally-Anne narrowed her eyes even more, giving her a remarkably and terrifying resemblance to Professor McGonagall. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise. I don’t know why he helped me. I mean, he hates me.” 

“He also hates Rose, but let her hide in his office last year,” Sally-Anne said. “Perhaps he’s nicer than he seems.” She furled her brow in thought. “Which gives me another idea, but I won’t worry about it now.” 

They returned to Gryffindor Tower together. Neville had two days left before the second task, and he actually felt that he might stand a chance. 


	21. Girl at the Bottom of the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the second task happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** If I had to pick something precious to hide in a lake from J.K. Rowling, it'd be Harry Potter.

Neville and his friends skipped breakfast the day of the task. With Hermione at home, Rose missing as usual, and Harry eating with Ellie, only four of them walked to the lake. 

“I don’t suppose anyone knows where Luna is, do they?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Ask Neville,” Ginny grumbled. 

“Why would he know?” Ron asked. 

“Never mind that,” Sally-Anne said. “I’m sure she’ll be here, as Hermione would were she able. As for Rose, I’m sure Professor Dumbledore knows exactly where she is.” She directed her perpetual smile at Neville. “So there will be plenty of us cheering you on.” 

“Shouldn’t you be cheering on Krum?” Ginny asked. 

“I can be friends with more than one champion.” 

Neville wasn’t much in the mood for talking. With gillyweed, he wouldn’t have much trouble, but he still worried. He didn’t know how he’d carry the sword. If the gillyweed wore off before the task ended, which was a possibility, he’d be in trouble. 

“Good morning,” Luna said, coming up alongside them. “How are all of you this morning?” 

Neville smiled at Luna, the eternal optimist. She frowned for a moment, then smiled at him when she saw him smiling. 

“Good luck today, Toad,” Luna said. 

“Thanks.” 

She pulled something out of her bag and handed it to him. It was some sort of leather strap. Looking closer, there were runes etched into it. 

“What is it?” 

“Put that over the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor. Squeeze it as tightly as you can, and it will activate a propulsion charm that dispels itself when it finds air. I thought it would help if you got stuck underwater today.” 

Neville drew the sword from his glove. He slid Luna’s gift over the hilt as she’d instructed. It didn’t interfere with the vine tied to the hilt, but sat just under the blade. 

“You should tie your vine around your waist,” Luna said. “Just in case.” 

“Thanks,” Neville said, wrapping the vine around his waist. “I hadn’t thought of that.” 

She wrinkled her nose, but her cheer returned moments later. 

“Who told you about it?” Ginny snapped. 

“Ginny!” Sally-Anne hissed. She turned to Luna and smiled apologetically. “Never mind her, Luna. It was very sweet of you to make something to help Neville.” 

Luna’s own unending smile met Sally-Anne’s. No matter how hard he tried, Neville couldn’t bring himself to smile. He just didn’t feel up to it. There was too much to keep his mind occupied. 

“Isn’t he not allowed to use anything other than the sword?” Ginny asked. 

“He’s allowed to use the vine tied to it,” Ron said. “Why would a sleeve be different?” 

Professor McGonagall met them at the lake and escorted his friends away. Taltria and Alavel met him shortly after and brought him to a large platform over the lake. Not far from him, he saw a long series of stands. It was to there that McGonagall had brought his friends. He looked out at them, hoping to see them and feel a little more hope. Instead, he couldn’t spot them. 

At least forty people had gathered on the stands, but Neville didn’t see his friends among them. He scanned along the stands again, but only spotted Harry and Ron. Sally-Anne, Ginny, and Luna were all missing. 

“Something wrong?” Cedric asked, sitting down beside him. 

“Can’t find my friends.” 

“I’m sure they’ll turn up.” Cedric looked over at the stands. “They’re probably… right… there.” His eyes darted between both ends of the stand. “That’s weird. Cho was sitting right there a moment ago. Now I don’t see her.” 

Neville looked up and down the stands, hoping to find anyone else he recognized. With Rose and Hermione missing, he didn’t see any other friendly faces. 

“Anthony’s gone too,” Cedric said. “Herbert’s right there, so at least…” Cedric blinked, then rubbed his eyes. “What?” 

Neville followed Cedric’s gaze, but didn’t see anyone he recognized. 

“Now Herbert’s gone.” 

“Who?” 

“Anthony and Herbert. They’re the Beaters for Hufflepuff?” 

A picture of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team formed in Neville’s head. 

“Okay.” 

“We all tried out for the team together. We’ve been best friends since our first year, but… they just vanished.” 

Neville didn’t know what to think. His best friends were all vanishing, just before he was about to dive underwater and face some sort of giant whirlpool. 

Looking back to Cedric, he found the older boy frowning. He tapped three fingers on his leg. 

“Neville, if you don’t mind me asking, who are your four best friends?” 

“Rose, Luna, Ginny, I suppose, although she’s been acting weird lately. Probably Sally-Anne.” 

“Do you see any of them there?” 

“I haven’t seen Rose since she told us about Hermione.” Neville glanced over at the stands. “But I walked here with Luna, Ginny, and Sally-Anne, but now they’re all gone.” He pointed towards the stands. “I see Ron and Harry there, but the girls are all gone.” 

“Like I said, Herbert and Anthony have been my best friends since first year, but they’re gone. Cho’s my girlfriend, and she’s gone.” His eyes moved between the stands again. “What’s going on with Hermione?” 

“She’s… actually, we’re not really supposed to talk about it.” 

“Is she alright?” 

“I don’t know. Rose and Professor Dumbledore said they’re handling it, but I haven’t heard anything in weeks. I guess that means she’s alright.” 

Cedric nodded. “Would you mind letting me know if you hear something?” 

“I guess.” 

“Thanks.” 

They both turned their attention back to the stands, where more people had amassed. Even then, there was still no sign of his friends. 

The platform creaked a little as more people joined them. Professor Dumbledore, accompanied by Professor Karkaroff and Viktor, joined them on the platform. Viktor took a seat beside them. 

“Neville,” Viktor said, “you are being friends with Princess, yes?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you knowing where she is?” 

“No, I was just saying, I can’t find her.” 

“See if you can find any of your four closest friends,” Cedric said. “I’ve got a theory.” 

“Of course, my friend. You are being brain of operation. Always having theory.” 

Viktor turned his attention to the stands. No emotion showed on his face. He could’ve been horrified, and Neville wouldn’t have known. 

“Andrei and Vlad, other Seekers at Durmstrang, are missing. They may be up to no good by themselves, but they would not miss this. I am not seeing Nikolai either.” He turned his attention back to Cedric. “What is theory?” 

“There were four hostages in the orb,” Cedric said, “and our four closest friends are missing. I think we’re going to have to bring them all back.” 

“But Viktor and me are both friends with Sally-Anne,” Neville said. “Did they just assume we wouldn’t have any friends in common?” 

Cedric frowned. “I don’t know. There must be more to it.” 

They glanced over at Fleur as she arrived. She sat down a few feet away from them. 

“Is she knowing what’s coming?” Viktor asked. 

“She should,” Cedric said, “since I told her a week ago.” 

Viktor glowered at Cedric. 

“Just because she didn’t want to work with us doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be willing to work with her,” Cedric said. “I just told her about the riddle, not how to solve it.” 

Neville glanced over at Fleur and saw her frowning at the stands. Like each of them had, she was looking for her friends that weren’t there. 

“It’s our four closest friends,” Cedric called down to her. “They’re all missing.” 

Fleur took another look at the stands, then moved closer to them. 

“Vhat do you know?” 

“Cho, Herbert, and Anthony are missing,” Cedric said. “My fourth friend’s probably Hermione, a girl from Neville’s year, but he said she’s having problems at home.” 

“Not exactly, but—” 

“I’m not sure I vould call Gabrielle my friend, but she ees my leetle seester, and should be right there in zhe stands. Michele and Adele are also meesing, and zhey ’ave been my friends seence our first year. Jean ees not my closest friend, but ’e ’as, ’ow you say, grown on me. He was there not a moment ago.” 

“Welcome to club,” Viktor said. He leaned towards Cedric. “Am I saying that right?” 

“Perfect.” 

Neville looked back at the stands one more time before he saw Professor Dumbledore drawing his wand. He pressed it to his throat and shouted. 

“Welcome everyone, to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!” 

The crowd erupted in applause and the four champions stood up. 

“As some of you know, Mr. Bagman is still recovering from his unfortunate accident, so you’ll all have to enjoy the pleasant sound of my voice explaining the event.” 

Neville offered a weak smile at Dumbledore’s joke, but couldn’t bring himself to laugh. 

“This morning, the champions have found that they are each short a few special people. One person for each of them lays at the bottom of the lake, guarded by untold horrors. Each champion must journey to the bottom of the lake, collect their hostage, and return to the surface within an hour. The faster they return, the more points they will receive!” 

Professor Dumbledore turned to them, and Neville took the gillyweed out of his belt. 

“Once again, each champion was given the option of carrying a single tool into the task, and they have each made the same choice.” He paused while the crowd applauded. “Champions, are you ready?!” 

Each of them crouched down and prepared to dive into the lake. 

Neville shoved the gillyweed in his mouth and felt slimy tentacles reach down his throat and begin to take effect. 

“BEGIN!” 

Neville dived into the lake. The frigid water sent shivers down his body. His hands changed to flippers and gills sprouted on his neck. He took a breath and felt fresh air enter his lungs. 

Pushing forward, Neville strained his memory to recall the way to the platform. He caught glances of the other champions, all of whom were racing in the same direction, and fell into line with them. 

Fleur, who bore a bubble of air around her mouth and nose, held the lead without trouble. Cedric wasn’t far behind her and used the same charm. Viktor had taken an alternative approach, having transfigured his head into that of a shark’s. Despite his strength, Viktor ended up off course more than once. Every time he did, Cedric would catch his attention and bring him back. 

Not only was Cedric keeping an eye on Viktor, Neville noticed that he was keeping an eye on him too. Every few minutes, Cedric glanced back at Neville. Neville tried to stay focused on finding the platform with the hostages. 

Just as the underwater ruins from the orb came into view, so did the mines. They floated in place, suspended by magic. Despite their size, there was enough space between them for each champion to navigate without trouble. Once they came into view, all four of them sped towards the platform, no longer concerned about the others. 

The platform itself stood in the middle of the ruins. It remained void of people, adorned by four empty poles and surrounded by a series of symbols. Apart from that, Neville didn’t see anyone or anything in the ruins. 

Fleur reached the platform first, followed close behind by Viktor and Cedric. As each one arrived, they vanished from sight. 

Neville swam closer, trying to take in every detail, keeping an eye out for traps. As none of the other champions had left the platform, he had to assume he was supposed to enter it. 

When he entered the platform, four people appeared on the poles, all unconscious. 

Princess was tied to the left-most pole, then Ginny hung next to her. After her was Luna, then… 

“Rose,” he breathed, startled by the fact that he could speak underwater. He swam towards her, but more movement caught his attention. 

Golden letters, much like the ones on the orb, appeared in the water above the poles. 

_Three are fake_  
_One is real_  


_I guess that’s what Professor Dumbledore meant by one person._

After another moment, the letters disappeared, replaced by an image of a clock. Neville figured it was the current time, reminding him exactly how long he had to figure out the newest riddle. 

_How am I supposed to tell who’s real?_

He looked from one to the other, but he couldn’t think of anything. Part of him wanted to wait; maybe another clue would appear with the other one. 

After a minute, the only difference Neville noticed was that he was getting tired. He shook his head to stay awake, then swam up to Princess. Even unconscious, she didn’t look half bad. Her hair floated freely above her, but that’s when Neville saw it. 

“Hold on… she hasn’t got her ribbon,” he said. “She’s always got her ribbon.” 

Neville swam back as her eyes shot open, revealing empty white behind them. She stared at him for a moment before vanishing, leaving the pole empty, and three people left. 

“I did it!” Neville took a moment to catch his breath. Why was he so tired? Was it something to do with being underwater? Some side effect of the gillyweed? 

_Just finish this up, and I can go back to bed,_ Neville told himself. 

He swam over to Rose next. He knew her better than Luna or Ginny, and knew what she had on her. Although, he’d hardly seen her since the ball. She could’ve changed in the past few months, and he wouldn’t know. He checked over everything Rose had: black and red boots, pink and black goggles, black welding gloves, black dress, ruby amulet, her bracelet with four charms on it, her belt, even her circlet. It was all there. 

After looking over Rose for a long, grueling minute, Neville moved on to Luna. He stole a glance at the clock on his way over. Thirty-five minutes left. He still had time, but couldn’t find anything off about Luna. Moving on to Ginny didn’t yield results either, and he was exhausted. 

He looked between the three girls. His three closest friends. If they were supposed to be his closest friends, then maybe his best friend would be the real one. 

“Rose!” he called. “I choose Rose!” 

Rose opened her eyes, revealing empty white, and screamed. Neville covered his ears. Her voice sounded like someone raking their fingernails over a chalkboard. 

She stopped and vanished, leaving Neville winded. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. When that didn’t work, Neville forced himself up and swam over to the remaining two hostages. 

Luna didn’t look that different from the way she usually did. With her naturally pale complexion, she looked like a ghost in the water. He swam back to Ginny, looking at her closely. He watched her face for a moment before seeing it. 

“Her freckles,” he panted. “They’re missing.” 

Neville held his breath. His eyes darted to Luna, but her eyes didn’t open. Instead, Ginny’s eyes opened, revealing the telltale white of a fake. He cut Luna down from her pole and started the swim back towards the surface. 

As Neville swam away from the platform, the mines came back into view. He saw Cedric ahead of him, and barely made out Fleur ahead of him. Neville swam as fast as he could, but the exhaustion he’d felt on the platform stayed with him. Dragged down by Luna, he didn’t make it far from the platform when the water started to move. 

The first sign of trouble came when he saw the mines beginning to move. They sailed slowly across his field of view, and he had to swim quickly to avoid one of them. Neville tied the vine on his sword to Luna before he lost her, looking behind him while he did. When he looked up, he saw the beginnings of a whirlpool. 

A mine slammed into him, fortunately not detonating on impact. He tore his gaze from the budding maelstrom and swam as fast as he could back towards the surface. Another mine flew at him from his front. He swam above, narrowly avoiding hitting it with either himself or Luna. 

As he held tightly to Luna, he remembered her gift. He aimed the sword towards the surface, then realized he didn’t know where the starting platform was just yet. Lowering the sword, Neville swam faster, straining himself. 

Ahead of him, he saw Cedric struggling to get through the mobile mines. With Luna in one hand, Neville swung the sword through the water with his other. It didn’t go far, but it got far enough to detonate a mine on a collision course with Cedric. 

Cedric looked back and fired a red beam towards Neville. Neville instinctively brought the sword up to block, but saw the beam wasn’t aimed at him. A mine behind him exploded, sending Neville closer to the surface. He used his new momentum to swim up to Cedric and his hostage, Cho. When he got close to him, Neville saw that Cedric was tired too. 

After realizing that he couldn’t speak, Neville pointed at the sword. He showed Cedric the runes on the hilt, then pointed towards the surface. Neville mouthed the word “platform” and looked questioningly at Cedric. 

Cedric nodded, then Neville pointed to the vine. He wrapped it around his wrist, then handed it to Cedric. 

Also unable to talk, Cedric simply nodded and pointed ahead of them. Neville looked in the direction and got an idea of where to aim. 

With another look at the vine, Cedric proceeded to follow Neville’s instructions. 

_I hope this works,_ Neville thought, then squeezed the strap as hard as he could. 

The sword nearly wrenched free of his grasp. He mentally thanked Luna for making “squeezing it as hard as he could” part of the activation. It pulled he, Luna, Cedric, and Cho closer to the surface, but something pulled back on them. Neville looked back and saw a funnel reaching closer to the ruins. As hard as the sword pulled them towards the surface, the maelstrom pulled almost as hard. They slowly made it away from the storm. Too slowly. Exhausted, Neville couldn’t keep his grip on the sword. He looked down at his companions, then had an idea. 

In hindsight, probably a bad idea. 

He slipped his hand out from the noose that held him and the sword together. The sword shot away from the maelstrom, taking Cedric, Luna, and Cho with it. 

Neville grinned, still fighting for every inch against the maelstrom. 

A mine slammed into him and exploded, cutting his celebration short. Dazed, he struggled against the force of the maelstrom, uncertain of which way to fight. 

* * *

Luna snapped awake the moment she broke the surface. Cheers from the crowd filled her ears, although it was soon drowned out by pelting of rain on water. She struggled to remember where she was. The last thing she remembered was Rose pulling her aside, as Professor Flitwick had told her she’d do, and casting _hibernate_ on her. Around her, she saw Cedric and Cho, the latter of whom she also knew to be one of the hostages. 

<Swim to the platform, Moon.>

Following Tutela’s instructions, Luna swam closer to the platform that held Rose, Tutela, Taltria, and Alavel. She tried use her nose to clear her head, but the only scent she got was that of seawater. 

“What was that Neville did?” Cedric asked her as he swam alongside. “With the sword? He squeezed it and—” 

“It worked!” Luna exclaimed. 

“That was your idea?” 

Luna nodded as Alavel hoisted her onto the platform, where she realized Neville’s sword was tied to her wrist. Before she had time to dwell on it, her sister hurled a towel at her. Luna untied the sword, then sat down beside Rose. Princess moved aside to give her space. 

“That was brilliant,” Princess said, shouting to be heard over the rain. “I can’t believe you made something like that.” 

“What happened?” 

“Toad used your strap thing to get you out,” Rose said. “It wasn’t strong enough to bring all four of you against the maelstrom, so he untied himself and let you all get away.” 

Luna’s heart sank. She looked out over the lake and saw images of Toad and Fleur. 

“ _Greater scrying_ with the lake as my focus,” Rose said, answering her unasked question. 

Luna looked out at the image of Toad, which remained unaffected by the rain. He fought against the maelstrom that Luna could see clearly towards the center of the lake. As it grew wider, he progressed more slowly. A minute later, Fleur reached the surface, with a girl Luna didn’t recognize in tow. 

“What’s the point of the towels?” Princess asked when Rose hurled two more towels at Fleur and the other girl. “We’re still getting pelted by rain.” 

Rose offered no answer. 

Between the noise, her lack of smell, and Toad’s possible impending death, Luna felt her hold on reality slipping. She glanced at Rose, but still her mental filing cabinet loomed over her, looking horribly unorganized. Tutela whined and pushed her head between Luna and Princess. 

“So much for distracting you two,” she said, scratching Tutela’s ears. “There’s no need to worry. He’ll be fine.” 

* * *

Bit by bit, Neville felt the maelstrom’s strength lessening. He finally managed to break free of it, and swam as fast as he could straight towards the surface. Only a few minutes remained of the gillyweed. Without knowing how far he was from the starting platform, Neville had to hope that he was close enough to get there before time ran out. His body felt numb from the cold water, but it helped him stay awake. 

The sun shone brightly as the maelstrom cleared up. Neville swam towards it, a task made easier by the sun’s ever growing brightness. It grew brighter and brighter, and Neville became aware that the gillyweed had worn off. That didn’t matter to him; he was almost there. 

What did matter was that his lungs were screaming. Neville held his breath as long as he could, but instinct kicked in, and he took a breath. Water filled his lungs, and he coughed underwater. The bright light of the sun faded away. 

_Stay focused!_

Neville forced himself to go towards the surface again. He could barely keep his eyes open. His lungs burned, and he wanted nothing more than to cough the water out of them. The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was a large, black shape moving towards him. 

* * *

Luna squeezed Rose’s hand as she watched Toad’s eyes flutter closed. All at once, sounds and smells flooded her. People shouted from the stands, Princess, Cedric, and Krum all started shouting from the platform, but Rose remained calm. 

“It’s alright, Moon,” she said. “We’ve got this.” 

Professor Dumbledore let out the loudest whistle Luna had ever heard. She cringed and clapped her hands to her ears. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw something moving just under the surface. A long, slimy tentacle broke through the water and reached towards the platform. The students all backed away from it, no one sure what to make of it. Apart from Rose, who had a huge grin on her face. 

“Who needs a kraken?” she asked. 

Luna stared wide-eyed at Rose. For that one moment, she wasn’t sure if that was her sister sitting next to her. 

The tentacle deposited Toad on the platform, then snaked back below the waves. Rose’s grin vanished, and she darted over to Toad before anyone else so much as moved. 

“Call the task,” Rose ordered. “We’ll take care of him.” 

The “we” in question referred to her and Madame Pomfrey, the latter of whom got to Neville’s side almost as fast as Rose. She checked him over while Luna and Sally-Anne crowded around him. 

“They’ll handle it,” Dumbledore said to the other champions. “Please, stand back and allow them to work.” 

To enforce his decision, Taltria and Alavel started shepherding them towards the other end of the platform, closer to the stands. 

As the rain died down, Luna’s sense of smell returned to her. She took a deep breath in and got smells from everyone on the platform. She picked through the information, looking for something familiar. 

The smell of strawberries mixed with lake water entered her nose. It was warm, comforting, just like its source, who took Luna’s hand to keep her calm. 

“Rose won’t let anything happen to him,” Princess whispered. “It’s going to be alright.” 

“ _D’so Thorthen alhel._ ” 

Luna caught Rose’s voice over the sound of the crowd and Professor Dumbledore informing them that there was no need to worry. A moment later, Toad started coughing and spluttering, and Madame Pomfrey rushed to extract water from him. 

Toad climbed shakily to his feet, aided by Madame Pomfrey. As he joined the other champions and scores were announced, Luna and Rose exchanged glances. Luna knew no one else knew what Rose had said, but she did. She’d heard almost the exact phrase in one of her dreams. Except Rose hadn’t been standing over Toad, she’d been standing over Princess. 

Luna also knew that the maelstrom had been Rose’s idea. So for the second time that day, Luna looked at Rose and wondered if she were still looking at her sister. 

Because “ _d’so Thorthen alhel_ ” was Dwarven for “ _I wish Toad were alive._ ” 


	22. Falling to Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns Diagon Alley, and all the books in it.

Luna sat outside the castle, watching the sunrise with Tutela. Technically, curfew didn’t end for another few minutes, but Luna figured no one would notice by the time they’d found her. Besides, what else was there to do while she waited? She’d ran out of books to read and exercises to do. On top of that, there was someone with whom she wanted to speak. 

<Are you ready?> Tutela asked. 

Shivers ran down Luna’s spine and anxiety gripped her, rattling her thoughts for a moment. 

<I am.>

<I let her know you want to talk to her.>

Luna smiled, despite dreading every moment. She was glad there wasn’t a clock around; the ticking of the seconds was driving her mad even though she couldn’t hear it. 

“I haven’t got a lot of time to chat,” Rose said, appearing beside her. “What is it?” 

Luna wanted to ask her again why she had to leave. She wanted to talk about Professor Babbling’s offer that still lingered in the back of her mind, but she had more pressing issues. 

“I’m worried about Toad.” 

“Is that it? Just go talk to Princess or Alavel. I haven’t got time to—” 

“You’re the only other person that knows he died.” 

Rose gave a sigh of exasperation. Tutela responded with a low growl. 

“He didn’t die, he was just unconscious,” Rose snapped. “I’m busy—” 

Tutela barked, startling Luna. She trotted to Rose and stood, feet apart, teeth bared, as if ready to attack. 

“Tutela, no!” 

<Tutela, yes! Tell her the truth, or I will!>

“I heard you!” Luna cried. “It was the same words you used when you brought Princess back to life two years ago!” 

Rose’s eyes darted between Tutela and Luna. Luna had never seen Rose angry before, but she was certain she was getting close. 

“It was just _revivify_.” 

“ _Revivify_ only works after six seconds, and _revenance_ only works temporarily! You brought Princess back to life after _revivify_ wouldn’t work and made Myrtle promise not to tell. I know how they work! I’ve heard Sk’lar explain them before!” 

Rose stood over her, glowering down at her. Luna tried to meet her gaze, but the thought of Rose being angry at her kept her too terrified. Instead, she kept her attention anywhere except Rose’s face. Her ears picked up every sound around her, and she could smell Tutela’s apprehension, but she refused to look at Rose. 

“How long have you known?” Rose asked, nearly startling Luna again. 

“I d-dreamed about Princess a few months ago. It was confusing dreaming about you in Hogwarts. I didn’t realize it wasn’t me until you used _teleport_.” 

Rose sat down beside her, and Tutela laid down in the grass. Her gaze didn’t leave Rose, and she held her place between them. 

“Yeah, I brought Toad back. We didn’t get him out in time.” 

“It was your idea to put them in a maelstrom,” Luna said. “Then you just thought he’d be fine on his own.” 

Not for the first time that day, Luna wondered if she were still dreaming. When she looked at Rose and Tutela, she knew she wasn’t. Yet something felt wrong with Rose. 

“What do you want me to do about it, Moon? I can’t help him with the tasks, and survival training isn’t helping him anymore.” 

“But you’ve got to help him,” Luna pleaded. “Please.” 

Luna sniffed the air, hoping to get an idea of how Rose was feeling. All she smelled on her was stone and dust, just like any other student. As she concentrated more on Rose’s scent, she realized there was nothing distinct about it. Princess smelled of strawberries, Toad of earth and wood, much like the forest, Firecracker of ash and something foul Luna was beginning to suspect was jealousy, and Cohort of misery and the library. Even though Scarface was hard to pin down, given that a new scent had introduced itself on him, he was still distinct from the others. But Rose didn’t smell like anything distinct, just rock, dirt, and mold, like everyone else. 

“When did you get those runes?” Rose asked. 

Luna shook her head, hoping to hide the runes on her forehead. “What runes?” 

Rose leaned in and moved her hair out of the way. “Those runes.” 

Luna blushed as Rose took her hand away. 

“It’s… it’s just something from Mum’s notes. They’re supposed to improve my senses. I’m using it to help Professor Hagrid feed Thestrals. It’s easier to communicate with them through scent.” 

“If you’d asked, I could’ve made you something,” Rose said. 

“You weren’t around,” Luna replied. “You’re never around anymore.” 

They continued to sit in silence, but Rose shifted closer to Luna. A new scent filled the air, something soft and a little sweet. Luna smiled when she smelled it. There was something familiar about it, something warm and comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Moon.” Rose took Luna’s hand in hers. “I promise, Toad will be alright. I’ll fix it.” She frowned. “Just as soon as I remember what else I was supposed to do today.” 

* * *

Hermione and her parents walked through the wall that separated Diagon Alley from the rest of the world. It felt like a rush of cool air after being baked in an oven for months. The colors and activity felt foreign compared to the blandness of her room. She laughed and started trying to take it all in. 

“Take it slow,” her dad said for possibly the tenth time. “Don’t let yourself get overwhelmed.” 

“I’m fine,” she said without looking at her parents. “Really, I’m alright. I haven’t had an incident in weeks.” 

She nearly took off running, but reminded herself it’d defeat the purpose. They’d agreed to a slow day in Diagon Alley, a way to ease her back into the world. She’d negotiated Diagon Alley with them, arguing that if she had an incident, it wouldn’t make a huge scene. Because of course, Hogsmeade was too far away, and she had a suspicion that Hogwarts moved during the night. 

They walked through the town for an hour. As much as Hermione wanted them to move faster, her parents wanted them to move slower. But after the hour, when they stopped for lunch, Hermione had settled into being in the Wizarding World again. Then it just felt like any other town with people in fancy dress and houses stacked on top of each other. 

Hermione sank in her seat as she ate. She tried turning her thoughts away from Hogwarts, but to no avail. Everywhere she looked, there was another memory lurking in the shadows. She’d kept her hair clip out to avoid thinking too much, but it hadn’t worked. Memories of her time at Hogwarts still flooded her head. 

“Are you alright?” her mum asked. 

She looked up and saw her mum’s worry. She offered a fake smile, hoping to assure her parents she was alright. No matter how bad she got, she knew if her parents saw it, she’d be home before she knew it. It was her only chance to convince them she might eventually be ready to go back to Hogwarts. 

“Fine.” 

“I thought we could go to the bookstore after lunch,” her mum said. “That one we always go to for your school books. Maybe get you a book you haven’t read a thousand times in the last few months.” 

“I haven’t read any of my books a thousand times. The one I’ve read the most is my maths book at 591, then my chemistry book at 522.” 

“Alright, one you haven’t read almost 600 times. Unless you don’t want new books.” She looked at Hermione’s dad. “I don’t know, we could always buy her a football instead.” 

Hermione cracked a genuine smile for the first time in nearly half an hour. Her mum smiled back, and a few minutes later, they were off to Flourish and Blotts. 

They walked inside, and Hermione felt another sense of familiarity, but it was less depressing than the last one. Although, the joy of going in lost something without her friends there. Once again, she found herself wondering if she’d ever see them again. All day long, she’d had to remind herself that they were all at Hogwarts, far away from her. None of them would be going to visit Diagon Alley that day; it was Saturday, so they were probably all at Hogsmeade, celebrating Neville’s success in the second task. Even if they weren’t, they couldn’t make it out that far. 

She zoned out while walking down the aisles of books. No one had told her about the next task, but she knew with Rose’s help, Neville would be alright. 

Although, Hermione also knew how Rose had been acting lately. The third task was drawing all of Rose’s attention away from everyone and everything else. Like she was avoiding something she didn’t want to do. It wouldn’t have surprised Hermione if Rose was simply avoiding something, but she couldn’t think of what Rose would avoid. Whatever it was, Rose couldn’t solve it with her usual method of hit it until it stops moving, then hit it some more until it breaks, then again until there’s nothing left. Then set it on fire and/or blow it up. 

“Knowing her, it’s probably some sort of responsibility,” Hermione muttered. 

She stopped walking and realized she’d instinctively walked to the section of the store with the advanced textbooks. Thinking of nothing else she’d rather buy, she slid one out of its place, opened it, and began to read. 

* * *

“First and foremost, I’d like to congratulate you four on your efforts in the second task,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Regardless of your individual standings, you all performed marvelously given the circumstances.” 

Dumbledore looked at each of them in turn, but Neville refused to meet his gaze. That wasn’t directed at him. He hadn’t finished, putting him in dead last. He felt ashamed just being there, poorly representing Hogwarts in the tournament. At least Cedric was in second place, just a few points behind Viktor. 

“Unlike the first two tasks, we will be giving you fair warning about the third,” Dumbledore continued. “It will be a maze, at the center of which lies the Triwizard Trophy. The first one to touch it wins the tournament. You will enter the maze in order of your current standing, a minute behind the person in front of you for each point behind them you are.” 

Neville mentally tallied up the scores. Viktor was in first with 59, and he was in last with 41. That meant 18 minutes between him and Viktor. 

_Which means I’ve got no chance._

“Ees zhat all? Just a maze?” 

“That’s all I’ve been told. I’m not the one in charge of constructing the tasks, and our contractor has had much more freedom with the third task. Be prepared for anything, and know that we will be monitoring you from outside the maze. As with the last two tasks, if there’s a problem, we will ensure there are no casualties.” 

Dumbledore dismissed them after that. Neville got out as quickly as he could. He hated the feeling that Dumbledore was ashamed of him. The only thing worse was Rose, who he hadn’t seen since the second task a week ago. 

_Probably too embarrassed to be around me._

“Neville, wait up.” 

Neville stopped walking and let Cedric catch up to him. He had to remind himself that Cedric wasn’t usually mean, despite his own instincts that said everyone was. 

“I never got a chance to say thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For what you did during the task. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I could’ve gotten Cho and I to the surface.” 

Not sure what else to do, Neville shrugged. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine,” Cedric said. “What was that you used? Some sort of propulsion charm?” 

“It was something Luna made for me. I can’t cast anything more complicated than _lumos_ , so she made a strap for my sword with runes on it.” 

“Lucky for us she did.” 

They walked in silence for a minute until they reached the stairs. 

“I’m off,” Cedric said. “I guess we’ll try to prepare for whatever they throw at us next.” 

Neville shrugged again. 

_If it’s worse than the last task, there’s nothing I can do,_ Neville told himself. _At least Rose will be there again to save me._

As Neville watched Cedric leave, another thought entered his mind. 

_Unless she decides I’m not worth saving._

* * *

While his daughter wandered the aisles, apparently lost in thought, Dan decided to take a look at some on his own. After hearing how backwards the Wizarding World was, he’d begun to take an interest in finding out why. At the very least, it had the potential to help him understand why his daughter loved it so much. He knew it was the only place she could safely practice magic, but it’d nearly killed her enough times that he had to stop and think about how many. If it were safer, that’d be another story. 

Dan walked to the front desk and asked the attendant for directions. While he did, he caught a glimpse of a face he’d seen that day. 

A disheveled man appeared to be following them. Everywhere they went, the man didn’t seem to be far behind. Dan didn’t know how long he’d been following them, but he’d first noticed half an hour before they’d stopped for lunch. Since then, the man had taken their exact route through the town. 

“He’s here again,” Dan whispered to Emma. “That man.” 

“Are you sure it’s the same one?” Emma asked. 

“Positive. He stands out even for a wizard.” 

Dan and Emma watched the man walk down the aisles and stop at a particular section. Dan followed the attendant’s directions, taking him past the man and Hermione, who remained in separate aisles. Even then, the man had a clear line of sight to Hermione from his place in the aisle. As Dan stole glances at the stranger, he noticed that he was paying more attention to Hermione than he was to the books. 

While every instinct he had told him to send the man limping off, his rational side reminded him that not only was he not the most intimidating man, his opponent likely had magic on his side. Getting into a fight would not only prove pointless, but risked setting off Hermione. There were more sensible ways of dealing with problems, which was exactly the lesson he’d been trying to teach her for the past several months. 

Dan walked down the aisle to Hermione, where she remained blissfully ignorant of the situation, her nose in a book and ten more surrounding her. He couldn’t help but smile at her. She was exactly as he always tried to think of her: content and using the extraordinary intelligence with which she’d been gifted. A small part of him wanted her to stay that way forever, unharmed by the monstrosities that lay outside waiting for her. Since the World Cup, those dangers had dwelt inside her own head, and there was nothing he could do to remove them. 

“We’re going to get going in a few minutes,” he said. “Finish up and pick out a book.” 

She looked up as if she’d forgotten they were in a bookstore and not her room. 

“Right.” She turned a faint shade of pink, then held up the book she’d been reading. “This one, probably. I just want to check over some others first.” 

Hermione reached out and touched one of the books. She smiled, then touched another book. 

“Take it slow.” 

“It’s my bracelet, not my magic,” she replied. “I’ll be fine.” 

She touched another book, then reached for another. Before she touched it, she winced. 

“Hermione?” 

“I’m fine. Just forgot—” 

She grunted and held her head. As Dan stared in horror, the books slowly lifted into the air around Hermione. 

“I’m alright,” she grunted. “I’ll… be… fine!” 

Books slid off shelves and flew towards her. They spiraled around her, drawing attention of several other shoppers. 

“What’s going on?” Emma asked. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know.” Dan motioned to her. “She was fine, then… this!” 

His mind froze. Fifteen years of being a parent, many years before that of studying at some of the best medical schools in the country, and he was helpless to save his daughter. He watched as she clutched her head and curled up on the ground. Tears streamed down her face, dampening the wood floor. All he could do was stare helplessly. His mind screamed at him to do something, so he looked around frantically. Judging by the faces of the onlookers, no one wanted to get involved. 

Almost no one. 

“ _Stupefy!_ ” 

The stranger that had been following them fired a red bolt at Hermione from his wand. Her sobs stopped. The books all fell to the floor. An eerie silence fell over the bookstore. 

Emma rushed to Hermione’s side. 

“Hermione. Sweetheart, are you alright?” 

His wife shook his daughter, but the latter didn’t move. Dan turned his attention, and anger, towards the stranger. Before he was entirely aware of himself, Dan had the man pinned to one of the shelves. 

“Who are you?!” Dan demanded. “What the Hell did you do to her?” 

“I just knocked her out,” the man said, holding his hands up. “My name is Remus Lupin. I was sent by Albus Dumbledore to keep tabs on her.” 

“Her teacher?” Emma asked. “The one that quit?” 

“Why should I believe you?” Dan asked. “How do I know you’re not one of the men that attacked her?” 

The man dropped his wand to the floor. 

“She’ll come to in a few minutes. She’ll recognize me when she does. Until then, I won’t touch my wand.” 

Dan kept his gaze locked on the man. He knew that even if the man was who he said he was, it was no guarantee that Dumbledore had sent him. Why hadn’t he warned them about it? 

“Mum?” Hermione mumbled. 

“Oh, Hermione!” 

Dan didn’t need to look away to know his wife was hugging his daughter. It was just her tone of voice that said, “My daughter needs to be hugged. Now!” 

“Professor?” she mumbled. “Dad? What’s going on?” 

“This man used some sort of red spell on you,” Emma said. “You were having another incident.” 

“ _Stupefy_?” 

“Sounds about right,” Dan said. 

“Dad, why are you hurting him?” Hermione asked. “That’s Professor Lupin.” 

“Are you sure?” Emma asked. 

“Positive.” Hermione sat up. “I don’t think he’d try to hurt me.” 

“Ms. Granger, ask me something,” the man said. “Ask me about something only the real Remus Lupin would know.” 

“I don’t need to,” Hermione said. “You’re still wearing the _New Moon Amulet_. How’s that working?” 

“Better than I could’ve hoped.” 

“And who made it?” 

“Rose.” 

“It’s him. She never advertises when she makes something.” There was a pause, apparently as his daughter thought about it. “At least, she never advertises what they do.” 

Dan backed away from the man. Even if his daughter trusted the man, Dan knew there were shady teachers out there. It gave some bad people opportunities to get close to children. As he thought about it, it seemed odd that Hogwarts hadn’t attracted any of them already. 

“Professor Dumbledore sent me,” “Lupin” said again. “He heard you three would be here today, and wanted someone keeping an eye out in case… well, in case exactly that happened. Rose said she was too busy—” 

“Exactly what she said when I invited her,” Hermione said. 

“—and Albus was worried that Ms. Granger wouldn’t like the idea of having a babysitter.” 

“So you just decided to follow us through town without informing Emma or I?” 

“Rose was supposed to tell you I’d be here, and not to worry. I didn’t want to risk approaching you and tipping Ms. Granger off. She is remarkably clever.” 

* * *

While her dad interrogated Professor Lupin, Hermione slipped her hand inside her pocket. 

<Rose, were you supposed to tell my parents something today?>

Hermione imagined Rose stopping what she was doing and staring vacantly into space. Then her eyes would go wide as it occurred to her what it was. 

<Right! That’s what it was! Tell your parents—>

<We’ve already found Professor Lupin.>

<Oh.> Rose actually sounded relieved. <Good, I don’t need to worry about it anymore.>

In spite of everything going on, Hermione had to stifle a laugh. 

_She’s my best friend._ Hermione had to actively think about it, if only to get her mind to process it properly. 

“Rose says he’s fine,” she said. 

The smile faded from her face as she remembered her incident. She’d used her bracelet, then either it or her started reading the books without her touching them. Then another one, then another one… then she’d lost consciousness. 

“Are you alright?” her mum asked. 

“I think so.” 

It hit her that she’d blown her only chance of ever leaving again. Worse yet, it’d been a harsh reminder that she would never be normal. Tried though she had, even reading books didn’t work. She watched the books return themselves to the shelves and sank a little in her mother’s arms. 

“I’d like to go home now,” she said. “Thank you, Professor.” 

“I’m not a professor anymore, Ms. Granger. I retired, remember?” 

Hermione smiled at him, then turned her attention to her father. He still glared at Lupin. 

“Dad, Rose forgot to tell us. It’s her fault, not theirs.” 

Her father looked down at her, then back at Lupin. Slowly, he extended his hand to the other man. 

“Thank you.” 

“After what Rose did for me, and what she, Mr. Weasley, and your daughter did for my friend, it’s the least I could do. I’m horribly sorry for all the confusion.” 

Hermione had a flash of Ron standing over her, broken arm, broken leg, wielding his wand in his offhand, and ultimately refusing to back down against Sirius. Sadness welled up in her as it hit her that she’d never see him again. At that moment, she’d have given anything to hear him say something stupid. 

“I want to go home,” she said in a soft voice. “Please.” 

With that, her parents left Flourish and Blotts, left Diagon Alley, and with it, the Wizarding World. Hermione didn’t speak a word on the way home. With no more hope, all she had left was a long life of sitting and staring into space. 

* * *

Neville skipped his exercises the following morning. They hadn’t done him any good in the second task, so he figured there was no point in them anymore. He got dressed, then went down into the common room. 

“Lord Toad, good morning,” Alavel greeted him. He motioned to the portrait. “If you would please follow me.” 

Neville glanced at the clock. 

“It’s still curfew.” 

“I am aware, but I’ve been granted special permission to bring you out of the common room.” 

Neville looked around, but there was no sign of his friends. Shrugging, he followed Alavel out of the common room. They walked a familiar path to the Room of Requirement, where Alavel activated the door. 

The interior looked almost identical to the way it’d looked the previous year when he’d trained with Rose. Turrets on one wall, targets on another, but no padded floors as it’d had the last time. 

“Here’s the plan,” Taltria said. “As per Our Lady Rose’s instructions, we are going to try to kill you every morning. We won’t let up until curfew ends, or you die. Unfortunately, due to some bureaucratic _dürah_ , we’re only allowed to do that in here.” 

Even though Alavel had resumed his original form, Neville was certain the Nimblewright was rolling his eyes at his twin. 

“We’re going to do this every day,” Alavel said, “until you can beat us without taking a hit. Then we’re going to keep doing it until you can beat us without trying. If you can’t do that, then you’re going to die in the next task. What Our Lady Rose has built inside that maze… is something with which no one contests lightly.” 

Neville glanced down at his gloves. What was Rose thinking? He couldn’t beat Taltria and Alavel. They’d throttled him just before the first task, even though he’d beaten his friends pretty easily the day after. 

When he glanced up again, he didn’t see Taltria. His head whipped around, and he brought out the Sword of Gryffindor and blocked her attack in one motion. 

“One hit down,” she said. “A million more to go.” 


	23. Learning to Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luna and Harry learn to fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** My feelings about the subject do not stop me from reminding you that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

“ _You disappoint me, Crouch,_ ” a voice hissed. 

Harry became aware that the voice came from his mouth. He wanted to look down, but his eyes remained fixed on a familiar man on the floor. 

“My apologies, My Lord,” the man grunted. Through groans and wheezing, the man worked to right himself, then bow before the man with him. 

Harry struggled to understand the scene before his eyes. With just few torches for light, it was hard to make everything out. He couldn’t move his eyes. Worse yet, something told him he shouldn’t keep trying. Like they’d know he was with them if he did, and the fear alone was enough to stop him. 

“I beg your forgiveness.” 

“ _Crucio._ ” 

The man screamed and writhed on the ground. The sound became unbearable, and Harry tried to look away. Once again, that fear crept into him and told him to stop. 

“Please, My Lord. Please. I’ve got another plan. I can fix this.” 

“ _I hope so, Crouch. For your sake._ ” 

Harry opened his eyes to a darker room, but one that held familiar, comforting sounds. He waved his hand above his forehead, wondering if Rose had taken it upon herself to press something hot against it. She’d done that once when she’d grown impatient waiting for him to act during training. 

Finding no one, Harry slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. Preferring to spend his time in the light, he got dressed and went down to the common room. To his surprise, it had another occupant. 

“Good morning, Harry,” Sally-Anne said without looking up from her work. 

“Hey.” He looked down at her notebook. “What is that?” 

“Our Charms essay.” 

“The one that’s due Friday? It’s just Monday.” 

“You and I will both have a lot less time now,” she said. “Practices start today.” 

Harry grinned. It’d been all he’d thought about for the past week since teams had been chosen. A chance to play alongside not only Viktor Krum, but some of the best talent Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had to offer. All thoughts of his dream faded away as his excitement grew. 

“I can’t wait,” he said. 

She smiled, but didn’t take her eyes off her work. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, but you should make sure you’re still giving yourself enough time to do schoolwork.” 

“What about you? You always do fine in class.” 

“Because I work at it,” Sally-Anne said. “I can’t just sit down and finish my essay in an hour like Hermione does. It’s harder now because I haven’t got her to go over my work.” 

Harry didn’t get much conversation out of Sally-Anne. After an hour of sitting in silence, he caved and began working on his own coursework. She was right, as usual; they were about to have a lot less time. 

* * *

Harry met Ellie after Charms, then they walked together to the courtyard. Harry kept his mind focused on Quidditch, while Ellie went on about how exciting it must be to be working with so much talent. 

“ _Good luck,_ ” Ellie told him when they arrived. “ _Not that you need it._ ” 

After exchanging a quick kiss, they parted ways for the next hour. 

Harry looked out at his team as he walked into the courtyard. Krum and his friend Nikolai were there, Fleur’s friends Michele and Adele were there from Beauxbatons, and with just the five of them, it was a good team. 

Unfortunately, they had one extra. 

“Took you long enough to get here, Potter!” Malfoy snapped. 

Somehow, Malfoy had been chosen to be a part of the match. As luck would have it, both teams were supposed to have two members of each school, and Cedric picked Cho during team selection. That left Malfoy and Harry on Krum’s team. 

“Potter is not late,” Viktor said. “He is right on time. Now we can get started with practice.” He held up a Quaffle. “Rules of game: six on six, no Beaters, Seekers, or Keepers. This will make change from what we are used to, but I think it easier to work together as team when everyone does something new.” He tossed the Quaffle to Harry. “We spend first practice getting used to Quaffle and new brooms. Build teamwork, then work on drills.” 

“We’ve only got two months!” Malfoy exclaimed. 

“So we work fast,” Viktor replied, picking up a broom. “These brooms must be handled with care. They are lending from Ministry. Firebolts are much faster than you may think.” He mounted one and kicked off. “Potter, throw!” 

Harry lobbed the Quaffle at Viktor, who had to dip down to grab it. 

“Not bad,” Viktor said. “Everyone, grab broom and get in air. We toss Quaffle between six of us while moving around.” 

“Vhat for?” Michele asked, tying her long hair into a ponytail. 

“As I say, get used to Quaffle, team, and broom.” 

They spent the next hour swarming around one another, tossing the Quaffle back and forth. Sometimes they’d fumble, but either Michele or Nikolai, the only two actual Chasers, would always recover it. 

“Sorry,” Nikolai said when he recovered it from Harry. “It is habit of force.” 

“I think you mean ‘force of habit’,” Harry said as Nikolai tossed him the Quaffle. 

“Oh. English is… confusing.” 

“We could always bring Rose here and have her teach us Dwarven,” Harry muttered as he tossed the Quaffle to Adele. 

Adele tossed it to Michele, who passed it back to Harry. Harry readied himself to catch it, but Malfoy shot in front of him and intercepted it. 

“Oi!” Harry shouted. 

“Need to be faster than that, Potter!” he shouted back, handing it off to Viktor. 

Malfoy was so busy mocking Harry that he didn’t see where he was going and flew into Michele. 

The other four dove to catch the two before they fell. Viktor and Harry got there first, being the two most used to the brooms’ speed. 

Viktor hauled Malfoy up while descending so he didn’t drop him. Harry lacked the upper body strength, so he held onto Michele until Adele and Nikolai arrived to help him. 

“Zhank you,” Michele said to Harry when she landed. 

She smiled at him for a moment, then rounded on Malfoy, shouting in French. Malfoy shouted back at her, but Viktor restrained him before he could do any harm. 

“Break time!” 

Sally-Anne ran over to them, carrying a box of canteens. 

“Calm down,” she said. “It was an accident.” 

“Zhat better not ’appen during zhe match,” Michele hissed. 

“This is why we’re practicing,” Sally-Anne said. “To improve, so it doesn’t happen during the match.” She turned to Malfoy. “Malfoy, are you alright?” 

“I don’t need your sympathy, M–” 

“It’s not sympathy, it’s my job. Now, are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” he growled. 

“Michele, what about you?” 

“A leetle bruised, perhaps, but nothing major.” 

“ _Merci,_ ” Sally-Anne said. 

Sally-Anne and Michele began to talk in French (when did Sally-Anne learn French?), and Malfoy drifted off towards the outskirts of the courtyard. 

“Potter,” Nikolai said. “I hear you are youngest Seeker at Hogwarts.” 

“I suppose so,” Harry said. “Me and Malfoy are in the same year, but I was allowed to start in my first year.” 

“They let first-years play?” 

“No, it was just me,” Harry said. 

“Potter’s special,” Malfoy said, having wandered back over towards them. 

“You started it!” Harry shot back. “You took Neville’s whatever-it-was and threw it into one of the towers!” 

“Please. McGonagall was looking for an excuse to put you on the team. It just makes Gryffindor look better to have the famous Harry Potter on their team!” 

Harry rounded on Malfoy. Malfoy sneered back at him. Harry wondered how easy it’d be to wipe that sneer off his face. 

“Boys!” 

Sally-Anne appeared beside them. Harry caught a glimpse of her flexing the fingers on her left hand. 

“That’s enough. You’re done fighting.” 

“Good plan,” Nikolai said before either boy could interrupt. “Fighting only hurts team.” 

“Well said, Nikolai,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Why should we listen to you?” Malfoy spat. 

“As I told you the last time you asked me that, because Professor Dumbledore made me the official mediator of the team to promote inter-school cooperation and teamwork,” Sally-Anne said. “If that’s a problem, take it up with him.” 

Malfoy glared at Sally-Anne, then turned his back on her. 

“Fine.” 

“Malfoy, a word, please?” 

“What?” he spat, rounding on her again. 

She nodded towards a corner of the courtyard, and the two of them walked away from Harry and Nikolai. 

Harry strained his ears to hear them. He had to know what Sally-Anne was planning. 

“I know you don’t like me, and you especially don’t like that I’m in a position of authority, but I’m not here to lord it over everyone.” 

“You’re not better than me!” he hissed. 

“I never said I was.” 

Harry didn’t know what Sally-Anne’s plan was, but he didn’t know how to feel about it. Did Malfoy have something over her? She wasn’t acting like it. Why was she going out of her way to be nice to him? It was Malfoy, the boy who’d made their lives miserable from day one. He’d tried to kill her twice. 

“Time for practice!” Viktor declared. 

“One last thing,” Sally-Anne whispered. “Don’t degrade yourself by resorting to name-calling. It’s beneath us both.” 

They returned to the sky for an uneventful practice. Harry watched Malfoy and Sally-Anne during practice, trying to understand what was going on. Sally-Anne watched them, writing in a notebook every so often, and Malfoy did nothing of interest. 

What was– 

“Timeout!” Sally-Anne called. “Potter, please come here!” 

Harry drifted to the ground and followed Sally-Anne to the edge of the courtyard. 

“Harry, what’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve been staring at me more than the Quaffle.” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

Sally-Anne glowered at him, prompting him to speak up and avoid a lecture. 

“What’s going on with you and Malfoy?” he demanded. 

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child,” Sally-Anne said. “Your focus should remain on practice, not on me. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not here as your friend. In thirty minutes when practice is over, we’re friends again. Until then, I’m Sally-Anne Perks, Team Mediator, and how I go about doing that with the other players is none of your business.” 

“But–” 

“It’s my job to make sure everyone gets along. If you don’t think you can play with Malfoy, it won’t be his position threatened. If, based on the opinions of all six team members, I determine that he’s a bad fit for the team, then I will speak with Professor Dumbledore.” 

“He tried to kill you!” 

“People change!” Sally-Anne hissed. “I’m not saying we’ll all have tea together, but neither of our personal opinions of Malfoy matter. You’re both good players, and I know you can do marvelously if you just get along.” 

Harry couldn’t believe what she was saying. Get along with Malfoy? Malfoy hated them. He constantly insulted Hermione and Sally-Anne to their faces unless Rose was next to them, never mind leaving them for dead against a troll. 

“How am I supposed to get along with him after everything he’s done?” Harry hissed. 

“You put it aside,” Sally-Anne replied. “Leave it in the castle until practice is over, then go back to hating him. Until then, treat him like a teammate.” 

* * *

Luna walked around the corner on her way to the Room of Requirement. Once again out after curfew, she wasn’t keen on other people knowing she was there. Rose said she was allowed to get away with it, so Luna decided it was a special exception for those with alternate sleep schedules. 

With a chance that not every teacher knew about it, she froze when the door to the Room of Requirement appeared on the wall. She stared at it when it opened. 

<Back up!>

Luna did as Tutela instructed and backed up. Then she sniffed the air to see who it was. The scent of wood and pine drifted into her nose. Her mouth formed the word “Toad”, but then another scent hit her harder than anything Rose had ever thrown at her. 

It was a distinctly metallic smell. Luna tried to place it, but the smell overwhelmed her, and she doubled over. She clutched at her stomach, trying hard not to be sick all over the corridor. 

She picked up footsteps heading her way. With what willpower she had left, Luna clapped a hand to her mouth and pressed herself against the wall. The footsteps and the horrid smell drew closer. Tears trickled over her hand, and Luna squeezed her eyes shut. 

Her mind drifted away to another world, with another Luna, and for a moment, she was someone else. Someone who wasn’t leaving Hogwarts. Maybe she had different friends. Maybe she had a different Rose. Whoever she was, she wasn’t there in that moment, with that dreadful smell in her nose. 

“Lady Moon!” 

“Luna!” 

Toad’s voice called her back to reality. When she returned, she found the scent was worse than ever. It surrounded her, cutting off all escape from its grasp. Her insides churned and gargled, sending her into a crippling pain. 

“ _Prestidigitation._ ” 

The power of the smell diminished, even though the smell itself lingered in the air. Luna took a breath of fresh air and got the scent of wood and pine needles mixed with earth and dust. She lay panting for breath for a minute, afraid to stand back up. 

“Are you alright?” Toad asked. 

“I’m okay,” she said weakly. She rose to her knees, uncertain that her legs would hold her. “Just… erm…” 

“Overwhelmed by the scent of blood?” Alavel asked. 

Realization hit her, but she refused to show it on her face. Instead, she smiled innocently. 

“No, it was just that… erm…” 

She scanned her mental catalog of creatures, struggling to find one that caused nausea at random that would be in a castle. 

“Lady Moon, my sister and I knew about your rune when we saw how you’ve been eating. A _ring of sustenance_ provides you with nourishment to get through the day, but the excess burden gave you your appetite back. Then you started sniffing the air and staring into space more than usual.” 

“Then we reported it to Professor Dumbledore,” Taltria said. “He said to check your head for anything unusual.” 

Luna looked at the two Nimblewrights. Her eyes darted from them, to Toad, to the small gaps between them. It’d take her a moment to get off her knees, and she was certain she couldn’t outrun them. 

After a minute, both Nimblewrights moved back. Luna took another breath of air, happy to feel less crowded. 

“Why are you out after curfew?” Alavel asked. 

“I didn’t realize the time,” Luna replied. “I thought—” 

“Lady Moon.” Alavel glowered at her. An odd expression, considering he didn’t have proper eyes inside his helmet. 

“I got bored,” Luna said. “Professor Dumbledore lets Rose wander the corridors, so I thought he wouldn’t mind if I did.” 

“Lady Rose is an exception, not a rule. You could’ve got in trouble had someone else found you.” 

“Okay.” 

Alavel continued his unbroken stare. 

“You don’t seem concerned.” 

“I’m leaving soon,” Luna said. “It won’t matter if I get in trouble.” 

“It could be a problem for wherever you end up next.” 

“It won’t matter,” Luna said again. “Rose won’t be there, so it won’t matter.” 

A new smell entered the air. At first, she thought Cohort had joined them, but soon realized it was coming from Toad. 

“She’s hardly around now,” he said. “What does it matter if she’s not around at all?” 

_She’s not._

Luna had seen Rose only a handful of times in the past two months. Yet, she’d kept control of her mind just the same. No other Luna had senses like she did. They didn’t have Tutela by their side to help. For the past several months, Luna had kept her mind straight without Rose next to her, because of her own gifts. 

She was okay without Rose. 

“Oh,” was all she could manage. 

“Taltria and I are still members of staff,” Alavel said. “While Lord Toad may have permission to be out with us, you do not. I’m afraid I’ll have to take five points from Ravenclaw, Lady Moon.” 

Luna heard Alavel and tried to nod. 

“I won’t do it again.” 

“I’ll have Tutela ensure you don’t,” Alavel said. “Now, if you would please follow me, I’ll bring you back to Ravenclaw Tower.” 

* * *

Harry flew with the Quaffle in hand, his eyes on the goal post. It was the last practice match for the day, and his team was going to win. 

“Potter, pass it!” Malfoy shouted. 

_What for?_ Harry thought. _I’ve got this._

Michele and Nikolai sidled up along either side of him and pushed into him. Harry kept his arm wrapped tightly around the Quaffle, but neither of them tried to take it from him. Instead, they steered him away from the goal, putting him out of range. He tried struggling against them, but they had him. If he tried putting the Quaffle in the goal, they’d intercept it. 

“Potter, below you!” Malfoy shouted. 

He glanced down and saw Malfoy with a clear shot at the goal. Harry didn’t see Viktor, which meant Adele was keeping him occupied for them. 

Harry looked on either side of him. If he tried passing it, they’d intercept it. But his struggling paid off. He broke free from Michele and Nikolai and dove straight for the goal. He opened his arms to throw the Quaffle in, when Michele shot of nowhere and grabbed the Quaffle. 

She passed it off immediately to Nikolai as he flew past her. Adele tried to stop him, but Viktor cut her off, ensuring that Nikolai scored and claimed the match for his team. 

“What was that?!” Malfoy shouted when they landed. “I was wide open!” 

“What was I supposed to do?!” Harry shouted back. “If I’d tried passing it, they’d have taken it!” 

“You cannot intercept from that position,” Nikolai said. “Had you passed to Malfoy, you would win.” 

“See?!” Malfoy shouted. “We had that!” 

“How was I supposed to know what they were doing?” Harry snapped. 

“I was your spotter! I was looking out for trouble! That’s what spotters do! Or do they not have those on Gryffindor?!” 

“They obviously don’t have those on Slytherin!” Harry shot back. “Otherwise you’d have beaten me when the Snitch flew right next to your ear!” 

“At least I didn’t have to be famous to get on my team.” 

“No, just your dad’s money!” 

“Yeah. What’s your dad done lately, Potter?” 

“ _Enough!_ ” 

A McGonagall-like roar echoed through the courtyard, causing everyone present to jump. He looked for his Transfiguration professor, but instead of her, Sally-Anne stormed towards them. 

“Both of you are suspended from practice for a week!” she shouted. 

“What?!” both boys shouted. 

“That’s not fair!” Malfoy snapped. “He—” 

“What did I do?!” Harry shouted. “Malfoy’s the one—” 

“Point of practice is to learn,” Viktor said, raising his voice over them. He stood between them, towering over them, despite not being much taller. “All I learn is that boys cannot work together.” 

“If this continues, you’re both off the team,” Sally-Anne added. 

“What?!” 

Harry couldn’t believe it. Not only was he at risk of losing his position on the team, his one chance to really fly for another several months, but Sally-Anne was the one that was threatening to take it away from him. How could she do that to him? 

“Sally-Anne–” he hissed, but she cut him off. 

“No, Potter,” she snapped. “For the last time, I’m no more your friend here than I am anyone else’s.” 

Harry and Malfoy stormed off the field. How could Sally-Anne do that to him? She knew how important the match was to him! What sort of friend was she?! 

“ _I thought she was nice,_ ” Ellie “said” when Harry told her about it. 

“I thought so, too,” he replied. “We’ve been friends since first year. Everything was great before the ball. What’s going on?” 

“ _You don’t talk to her much anymore. Maybe… maybe you’re growing apart._ ” 

“We can’t be,” Harry said as doubt reached in and took hold. 

“ _Me and Max are. We hardly see each other outside of class._ ” Ellie became downcast, but Harry put his hand on Ellie’s shoulder to try to cheer her up. 

She smiled at him and placed her hand on his. 

“ _Thank you,_ ” she mouthed. 

“ _You’re welcome,_ ” he mouthed back. 

Harry couldn’t shake the thought that he’d lost his friend. The more he thought of it, he realized they didn’t have much about which to talk. Maybe they were better off not being friends. 

He smiled at Ellie. 

_At least I’ve got her._

* * *

Harry returned to practice a week later, but if anything, Malfoy was worse. They were immediately put on a team for practice, and Malfoy made a habit of hurling the Quaffle at Harry’s head. 

“Good job, Potter,” Malfoy said after the third time. “Way to prove that they’ll let anyone on Gryffindor’s team.” 

“Ground!” Sally-Anne shouted. 

Viktor let out a low growl, but repeated the order. They’d hardly touched down when he moved to Malfoy’s side. 

“Malfoy, stop attitude!” 

“What attitude?” he scoffed. “I just don’t see how Potter was picked. He keeps fumbling the Quaffle.” 

“Only when you throw it!” Harry shot back. 

“Well if you tried a little harder to catch it–” 

“Stop!” Sally-Anne snapped. “You two sound like a pair of squabbling children! If you want to act that way, then I’m happy to treat you like it.” 

“Wow, Potter, I thought you had all your friends trained. I guess it’s only the freak and the cheat, then?” 

Viktor grabbed Harry’s arm before he could make a move against Malfoy. Malfoy’s smirk only made him want to break free. 

“If he punches you, Angelina Johnson takes his place,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry caught a slight twitch in Malfoy’s smirk. 

“And if you still can’t get along with a Gryffindor, then you’ll be removed, and Harry will take his place back on the team.” 

Five sets of eyes darted from Sally-Anne to Malfoy. 

“How would you know?” 

Harry and his team turned their attention back to Sally-Anne. Viktor kept his grip on Harry. 

“I’m not just taking notes for fun. I report back to Professor Dumbledore, who has given me the list of runners-up. Which he did so when I see a player goading another player into punching him, I’ll be able to explain why that’s a bad idea.” 

Once again, the players looked from her to Malfoy. Harry clenched his fist. Malfoy was trying to get him kicked off the team? 

“You’ve got no proof of that.” 

“Proof of what? I haven’t made any accusations.” She turned to Viktor. “Krum, you and the rest of your team can take to the air. They don’t need to be here for this.” 

“This concerns team, so team should be present.” 

“Then I’ll be brief.” Sally-Anne turned back to Malfoy. “Malfoy, last warning. Shape up, or get out.” 

Malfoy gave Sally-Anne a look of disgust. But then a sneer crept across his face. It just made Harry want to punch him all the more. 

“I guess there’s no point in trying to get Potter kicked off,” he sighed. “That is, if you’re calling the shots.” 

Sally-Anne rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

“I’ve told you Malfoy, you’re all the same here. I’d kick Krum off if I thought he was causing problems beyond giving me grief for halting practice every five minutes.” 

Viktor released Harry, but didn’t back away from him. Harry just frowned at Malfoy. He didn’t seem bothered by Sally-Anne anymore. In fact, he seemed happy about the whole thing. What was he up to? 

“But Potter can’t be the same as everyone else, can he?” 

“Just cos we’re friends?” Harry asked. 

Even he knew better than that. Sally-Anne didn’t care who he was, not as far as practices were concerned. He looked at her, expecting exasperation, but saw she’d gone slightly pale, and her eyes were just a little too wide. 

“Malfoy, don’t,” she breathed. 

“She knows what I’m talking about,” Malfoy said. “So you haven’t told him yet.” 

“Told me what?” Harry asked. 

“Malfoy, please—” 

“She’s in love with you!” 

Harry laughed and glanced back at Sally-Anne, expecting her to be laughing with him. Instead, she was frozen in place. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Harry said. “We’re just friends.” 

“I heard her talking about it a year ago,” Malfoy sneered. “She’s–” 

“You will stop right now,” Viktor said, stepping around Harry to put himself in front of Malfoy. 

“What are–” 

Viktor cracked his knuckles and Malfoy stepped back. 

“Leave now, or I introduce you to Bulgarian justice.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

Viktor glared down at him, then bellowed a laugh. 

“Maybe not,” he said. “Want to find out? We can see how good you fly without broom.” 

“Leave him alone,” Sally-Anne said. 

Viktor looked at Sally-Anne, then back to Malfoy. 

Malfoy sneered at them, then pushed past Viktor. He stopped at Sally-Anne, sneering at her until she looked up at him. 

“I guess I win, Mudblood.” 

He bumped into her, knocking her to the ground, then walked off, laughing loud enough that they could all hear. 

Viktor and Harry both made a move towards Malfoy, but Nikolai grabbed them both by the wrists. Harry turned to glare at him, and caught a glimpse of Adele stopping Michele from doing the same thing they were. 

“No,” Nikolai said. “He is bad guy now. You hit him, then you are bad guys.” 

Harry looked at Malfoy walking into the castle, then at Sally-Anne. He relaxed his arm and Nikolai released them. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Harry said to Sally-Anne. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.” 

“He’s not lying,” Sally-Anne said, picking herself up. “He heard me telling Myrtle about it last year.” 

Harry’s smile faded and his head began to spin. That couldn’t be right. 

“What?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it now,” Sally-Anne said, her voice cracking. 

Viktor took a step towards her, but she backed away. 

“Ve should end practice,” Adele said. Harry was certain he’d never heard her speak before. “Geeve everyone time to relax.” 

Harry absently nodded his head. Sally-Anne couldn’t have a crush on him. They were just friends. 

“Agreed,” Viktor said. 

“In that case, I need some time alone,” Sally-Anne said. 

Harry watched Sally-Anne run off. He felt as if he’d been slapped in the face. 

“Are you two alright?” Nikolai asked. 

“Malfoy will be one that is not alright,” Viktor growled. 

Harry jumped when he felt a hand tapping his shoulder. He looked round and found Adele standing beside him. 

“Are you alright?” she asked in a quiet voice. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. He motioned absently in the direction Sally-Anne had run off. “I can’t even talk to her about it.” 

“Maybe you talk vith someone else,” she said, nodding her head past Harry. 

Harry stared into space for a moment before realizing Adele was asking him to turn around. He looked around slowly and saw Ellie waiting for him at the edge of the courtyard like always. 

When she met his gaze, the smile faded from her face, and she ran over to him. 

“ _Is everything alright?_ ” 

“Not really,” he replied. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

She nodded and held out her hand. Harry stared at it for a moment, then realized she was asking him to take her hand. 

“You hate holding hands,” he said. 

“ _But you look like you need a hand to hold,_ ” she mouthed. 

They walked around the castle together, but Harry didn’t say much after explaining what had happened. He couldn’t get Malfoy’s words out of his head. How was he supposed to work with any of them? Malfoy who was trying to sabotage him, Sally-Anne who apparently had a crush on him, and Viktor who was with Sally-Anne. 

_I don’t even know if we’re still friends,_ he thought. _I don’t know if I’m friends with any of them._

Harry felt trapped inside his own head. His body operated on its own as he walked with Ellie. They passed Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, but didn’t say hi. They passed Luna walking with another girl, both of whom smiled at him as they passed, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile back. Hannah and Max waved to them, but still his body wouldn’t work. 

He stayed with Ellie through dinner. His normally chatty (especially for a girl that couldn’t speak) girlfriend made no effort to communicate after they sat down. He stared at his food, and she stared at him. 

“ _It’ll be okay,_ ” Ellie told him before leaving for Hufflepuff Den. “ _You’ve still got me._ ” 

For the first time all night, he forced himself to smile. 


	24. Eye in the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry falls and flies again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** No matter who wins or loses, J.K. Rowling owns Quidditch.

“ _I’ll stay here and watch,_ ” Ellie said when she and Harry arrived at the courtyard the next day. “ _You can always come talk to me if it’s too much._ ” 

“You’re not supposed to stay here,” Harry said. “There are at least five people that do, but I think Viktor sees them too.” 

“ _Then one more won’t hurt._ ” She reached up and touched his cheek. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, he wondered if he couldn’t stay with her all day. 

“Bye, then.” 

Harry kissed her goodbye, then ran out to meet the rest of his team. 

Sally-Anne stood against a pillar holding her arms and avoided his gaze when he saw her. At first, he didn’t see Malfoy, but then noticed the other boy walking into the courtyard. 

“Get out!” Viktor barked. 

“Last I checked, I’m still on the team,” Malfoy shot back. 

“I am captain! I say you gone!” 

“‘You gone’?” Malfoy scoffed. “Your English is rubbish.” 

“Boys, that’s enough.” 

Sally-Anne’s voice didn’t carry the same authority it had the previous weeks. She didn’t storm over to them, she didn’t even shout. When they looked her way, she avoided eye contact. 

“Malfoy’s still on the team,” Sally-Anne said. “The power to change that lies with me, not you.” 

“’ow can ve vork veeth heem?” Michele demanded. 

“He wasn’t out to humiliate anyone except me. I can still go on, so you should too.” 

“Still go on” turned out to be subjective. Malfoy’s attitude didn’t improve any. He mocked and jeered everyone else. Viktor and Michele got the worst of it, but Harry realized it was because he couldn’t get a rise out of he or Nikolai. Picking on Adele for being under five feet tall got to her too easily to be entertaining to the Slytherin. 

Through all of it, Sally-Anne hardly said a word. Malfoy ignored every order she gave, which didn’t surprise Harry. He was difficult on the best of days, but with no authority to keep him in check, he walked all over them. 

Half an hour in, Sally-Anne finally spoke up. 

“Ground.” 

Harry caught her word during a drill, but, looking around, saw no one else did. 

“Ground.” 

“Oi!” Harry called. With the attention of his teammates, he nodded towards Sally-Anne. 

They all circled to the ground, Michele growling something in French. No matter what she did, she couldn’t easily lash out at Malfoy without consequences. 

“I’m suspending practice,” Sally-Anne said. “I was wrong. I’m no longer capable of doing my duties. Professor Dumbledore will assign someone to you in my place.” 

“You do not need to go,” Viktor snapped. “It is Malfoy that needs to go.” 

Sally-Anne shook her head. 

“It’s my responsibility to make sure everyone gets along. I clearly can’t do that anymore. Malfoy is still capable of flying, and that’s all we’re asking of him.” 

Michele muttered something in French that sounded like a threat. 

“I’m sorry, everyone. I hope whoever they find to replace me handles this better.” 

Amid protest from most of the team, Sally-Anne left the courtyard. Harry watched her go, then ran over to Ellie. 

“ _You’re awfully worried about her,_ ” Ellie said after Harry had explained what’d happened. 

“She’s my friend,” Harry replied. “Of course I’m worried about her.” 

Ellie nodded, then looked away. She signed something, but without seeing her lips, Harry couldn’t make it out. 

“Ellie?” 

She looked right at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was about to cry. 

“ _You don’t like her, do you?_ ” 

“No! We’ve been friends forever, but not like that!” 

“ _Promise?_ ” 

“I promise.” 

Ellie paused to wipe tears out of her eyes. 

“ _I liked Max the moment he first translated for me. I tried getting someone to pass me pudding during the opening feast, but they just looked at me like I was mad. They thought I was playing a game, but Max smiled and slid the bowl to me._ ” 

Harry took her hand, but she wrenched it away. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” 

Ellie took his hand and touched her own cheek with it. Her tears ran over his hand, but her lips curled into a smile. 

“ _That makes me feel a lot better than holding hands._ ” She closed her eyes for a moment and rested her head on his hand. “ _I stuck to Max after that. I haven’t a clue what I’m doing in Ancient Runes, but I took it so I could be with him. But… but I’ve only ever been a burden to him._ ” She opened her eyes and stared into his again. “ _I’m not a burden to you, am I?_ ” 

“You could never be,” Harry said. “I… hold on.” 

He took his hand away and signed something for her. He hoped it’d cheer her up, but she started laughing (which was a little creepy when no sound came out). 

“ _That’s not the sign for love,_ ” she said. She pointed to herself, made another sign, then pointed to him. “ _That is._ ” 

Harry smiled and kissed Ellie. She rested her head on his chest, and for a long time, they stood, arms around one another, not saying a word. He didn’t need anything else in that moment but Ellie. 

“Aw, how sweet.” 

In that moment, he wanted Rose to kill Malfoy for him. 

“Go away, Malfoy.” 

“Make me, Potter.” 

Harry withdrew his arms from Ellie and turned to confront Malfoy. As always, Malfoy had his fan club with him. 

“Does your girlfriend know about you and Perks?” Malfoy asked. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Sally-Anne!” Harry snapped. 

“Sure there’s not.” His smirk grew bigger. “Just like you weren’t upset when Chang was picked for the other team.” 

Harry hesitated, which he realized immediately was a bad idea. His eyes darted to Ellie, who frowned and looked between him and Malfoy. 

“What’re you talking about?” Harry asked. 

“Don’t play daft with me, Potter.” He turned to Ellie. “How’s it feel to be third place, Langley? If I were you, I’d be wondering who else he’d pick before you.” 

“Stop it!” Harry shouted. “Leave her alone!” 

“I’m sure she can speak for herself,” Malfoy said. “Oh, no, she can’t.” 

Harry drew his wand, a move Crabbe and Goyle both mirrored. Malfoy didn’t bother; he just stayed still, smirking. 

“Go for it, Potter. Let’s see what happens.” 

Harry focused on his _blindsight_ but kept his gaze fixed on Malfoy. If either of his goons made a move, he’d make one first. He knew he could act faster than them. 

Before any of them could make a move, someone else did first. Harry had kept his focus on Malfoy, so he didn’t notice the figure behind him until Malfoy was already a foot in the air. 

“Tell your orcs to drop their wands,” a deep voice said. “Then I’m going to put you back down, and all four of you are going to walk away. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Malfoy?” 

“Get off me, or I’ll have you sacked!” 

“You can’t. I’m not a member of staff. I’m in service to my Lady Rose, who has charged me with guarding the young man you’re currently threatening.” 

“When I—” 

“Or do I need to get my Lady Rose involved?” 

Malfoy stopped squirming. All traces of his smirk had vanished. 

“Lower your wands,” he spat. 

As Crabbe and Goyle lowered their wands, Alavel lowered Malfoy to the ground. 

Harry lowered his own wand as the four Slytherins skulked off. 

“Are you alright, Lord Scarface?” 

“Fine,” Harry said. 

“And you, Ms. Langley?” 

Harry turned to Ellie and saw her nod at Alavel. 

“All that stuff Malfoy said,” Harry said, “just ignore him.” 

“ _Is it true?_ ” she asked. “ _Do you like Cho?_ ” 

“I… I don’t know. I did, but… I like you now.” Harry reached for her cheek, but she took a step back. “There’s nothing going on with me and Cho, honest.” 

“ _What about Sally-Anne?_ ” 

“I told you, we’re just friends. There’s nothing there either. I guess she likes me, but I… I don’t know how I feel about her.” 

“ _You spend a lot of time with her._ ” She stopped signing to wipe away fresh tears. “ _She’s a lot prettier than me._ ” 

“So? I’d rather be with you than with her. Honest.” 

“ _I’m not going to compete with other girls. Not again._ ” 

“You won’t–” 

Ellie shook her head. 

“I… I love you, Ellie.” 

“ _I want to believe that. Really, I do._ ” She took a few steps back. “ _See you around._ ” 

Harry watched Ellie walk down the corridor. In his mind, he could still see her smiling face. She’d turn and run back to him, they’d hug and it’d all be better. 

Not this time. This time, it was all over. Ellie rounded the corner and vanished, taking with her the last traces of their relationship. 

Harry stared at the spot Ellie had been. His head spun with thoughts of Ellie. Her bright blue eyes, how soft her hands felt when they were guiding his through another part of sign language, how she could laugh without making a sound. All he wanted was for her to come back, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. 

_How’s it feel to be third place, Langley?_

Malfoy. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t said those things to Ellie, she’d still be with him. 

Harry spun around and saw Alavel still standing in the corridor. He hardly looked like much, just another statue. If he’d just shown up sooner, he would’ve stopped Malfoy. 

“You,” Harry hissed. “Where were you?” 

Alavel offered no response. 

With tears in his eyes, Harry lept at Alavel. He collided with the Nimblewright, who didn’t budge when Harry fell into him. Harry started banging his fists on Alavel. Pain coursed through his hands, but his anger drove him to keep hitting him harder. 

“Why?” Harry shouted between sobs. “Why couldn’t you have shown up sooner?” 

Blow after blow, Harry kept slamming his fists against Alavel until he couldn’t anymore. He fell to the ground, overwhelmed by misery. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Alavel said. 

“No you’re not. You’re glad I’m miserable.” 

“Considering how much you despise other people running your life, I’d suggest you not tell me how I feel.” 

Harry slammed his fist into Alavel’s leg. It hurt just as much as every other punch he’d thrown. 

Alavel sat on the ground next to him. 

“It’s been my job for the past several months to keep you safe. Unfortunately, safety doesn’t always allow for fun.” 

“Who cares?” 

“Sirius and I both care a great deal about you. Your friends all care about you, and I’m sure they’ll be upset to hear about you and Ms. Langley.” 

Harry frowned, then made a look of disgust. 

“Sally-Anne won’t.” 

“She will more than anyone else.” 

Harry shot a glare at Alavel, but he remained unphased. 

“Did you know about her?” 

“Everyone knew of Lady Princess’s feelings for you, but we all respected the both of you enough to keep it to ourselves.” 

“I wish she didn’t.” 

“She has worked hard to move on, and I give a lot of credit to Mr. Krum that he has been nothing but supportive of her in this endeavor. Many other young men would’ve given in to jealousy, but he has done a fine job. Before you ask, he’s known about this since the Yule Ball. He sees her feelings for you as easily as you see it on anyone else’s face, but he still stands with her.” 

“Good for her. I hope she’s happy.” 

Harry thought of all the times he’d talked to Sally-Anne. How he’d confided in her when he’d had no one else. 

“Did she ever really care about me? Or was it just because she liked me?” 

“You’d have to ask her.” 

* * *

Sally-Anne dragged herself up to Professor Dumbledore’s office. With what little sleep she’d gotten, she was sure her ring hadn’t done anything for her. She was sure she looked as miserable as she felt. 

The gargoyle lept aside when she mumbled the password, then walked up the spiral staircase to his office. The door opened for her when she knocked, and she found that Professor Dumbledore was facing away from her. 

“Professor, I’m sorry to bother you—” 

The chair swiveled around and Sally-Anne’s heart stopped. It wasn’t Professor Dumbledore in his office. 

“Yes, Ms. Perks,” Alex said in a horrible impersonation of Professor Dumbledore. “I thought you might be dropping by.” 

“Alex?” Sally-Anne breathed. “What are you doing here?” 

“You’re not going mad, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Alex said. “After yesterday, word reached Professor Dumbledore about what happened. Then Rose popped up in my flat this morning.” 

Alex stood up from Professor Dumbledore’s chair and walked around his desk. After taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of it, she motioned for Sally-Anne to sit in the other. Sally-Anne stared at the chair for a moment before getting a grip on herself. 

“What’s going on?” Alex asked. 

“You said you already know,” Sally-Anne said as she took her seat. 

“I heard it from Rose, but I’d rather hear it from you.” 

“There’s not much to tell. Yesterday, Malfoy told everyone that I would never kick Harry off the team because I’m in love with him. I tried mediating practice today, but I couldn’t. So I came here to tell Professor Dumbledore that I’m no longer fit to mediate the team.” 

Alex gave her a sympathetic smile. 

“I did warn you this might happen.” 

“You did, and I insisted that giving Malfoy a chance was the right thing to do.” 

“There are six other players on Slytherin.” 

“But I thought Malfoy’s grudge against Harry would motivate him to work harder, not to sabotage his own team!” 

“That’s not what he’s like,” Alex said. “I’ve been asking around the Ministry and some of the professors here. Word is Malfoy’s a lot like his father: arrogant, condescending, and expects everything to be dropped into his lap. He won’t work for anything, because everything’s always been given to him.” 

Sally-Anne slumped in her chair. 

“I just made the wrong choice, then.” 

“Professor Dumbledore had to approve your roster. Are you saying he made the wrong choice too?” 

Sally-Anne nearly said “yes”, but she remembered all the times she’d seen Rose talking with Professor Dumbledore. She didn’t always agree with him, but she listened anyway, because she respected him. Rose didn’t respect any other adults, but she respected Dumbledore. Then Sally-Anne recalled what Professor Dumbledore had said about knowing the students, and another question occurred to her. 

“Professor Dumbledore must’ve known Malfoy had something on me. Why let me put him on the team?” 

“That doesn’t matter now. What matters most is that you took a chance and did the right thing. You believed in Malfoy when you had no reason to, even after everyone, including me, said it was a bad idea.” 

Sally-Anne frowned. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Like I said, he’s not at all how you thought, but you thought better of him.” Alex smiled at her. “That’s just who you are, Princess.” 

A warmth spread inside her, and Sally-Anne couldn’t help but smile. 

“Thanks.” 

“I’m not finished yet.” Alex stood up. “You’re coming with me.” 

“Where are we going?” Despite her question, Sally-Anne stood up to follow Alex. 

“To find Harry and talk to him.” 

The warmth she’d felt a moment ago faded away and fear took its place. 

Alex placed her hands on Sally-Anne’s shoulders. 

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done was facing my aunt and uncle the night I broke the angel. But I found the courage to face them again. If I could, you shouldn’t have any trouble.” 

Sally-Anne smiled and leaned into Alex. 

“Thanks, Alex. That makes me feel a lot better.” 

They stood for a minute while Sally-Anne recovered her wits. Alex didn’t mind; she snaked her arms around Sally-Anne and waited with her. 

It wasn’t long before they left Professor Dumbledore’s office and walked down to the ground floor. 

“How do you know where he is?” Sally-Anne asked when they reached the first floor. 

Alex grinned and pointed to her head. 

“The voices in my head told me.” 

Sally-Anne rolled her eyes. 

“Thank you, Rose.” 

“Rose did her mind talk thing on me,” Alex said. “She says she’s got someone keeping tabs on Harry.” 

“Probably Alavel.” 

“Whoever it is, she says they’re still on the ground floor.” 

Sally-Anne’s heart stopped when she realized how close they were. For a moment, she was back in first year, too timid to do or say anything. 

_I’m not that girl anymore. I’m stronger._

Alex stopped walking and glanced back at her. 

_I can do this._

“One more floor to go.” 

“Tell Rose where we are, and make sure she sends word ahead. For someone who hates it when a team keeps secrets from one another, she’s ghastly at communication.” 

Alex frowned as they started walking again. She burst into laughter a moment later. 

“She hasn’t changed a bit.” 

“No, she has,” Sally-Anne said. “It’s just for the worse.” 

They silently agreed to drop the subject of Rose when they reached the ground floor. Sally-Anne mentally prepared herself. She’d been dreading the moment Harry found out about her crush on him for years. 

Alex slowed down and frowned at the corridor. 

“Rose?” 

“She’s giving me confusing directions. One moment, she says go around the corner a ways, now she’s saying double back.” 

Sally-Anne stopped for a moment, then continued down the corridor. 

“Wait!” Alex exclaimed. 

Sally-Anne glanced back, but didn’t stop walking. She looked back just in time to avoid running into another girl. 

“Ellie?” Sally-Anne asked. She glanced behind the other girl. “Is Harry with you?” 

Sally-Anne caught sight of the tears in Ellie’s eyes and got a bad feeling. Thinking fast, she activated her pendant to find out what had happened. Even if she hadn’t, Harry’s absence from Ellie told her what she needed to know. 

_You._

Sally-Anne heard the pain in Ellie’s voice. She saw it on her face. 

“What happened?” 

_Leave me alone!_

Ellie pushed passed her, but Sally-Anne caught her as she went past. 

“Please, listen to me!” 

_No!_

Ellie shoved her against the wall. Sally-Anne caught Alex moving towards them, but Sally-Anne quickly shook her head, and Alex backed down. 

“I’ve never seen Harry happier than when he was with you. Never mind what my feelings for him are.” 

Ellie stopped walking away, then turned on Sally-Anne. Her face grew red with anger, and she began to sign furiously. If Sally-Anne hadn’t had her pendant, she never would’ve been able to understand her. 

_What do you know? All you’ve been trying to do for months is steal Harry away from me. Now you can have him! I won’t be last place again!_

“How could you think I’ve been trying to steal him from you? I got you two together, remember?” 

_Maybe you realized you made a mistake. If you want him, you’d better move quick, before he goes running to Chang._

Sally-Anne’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her cool on the outside. No sooner had the question “How does she know?” popped into her head than she knew the answer: Malfoy. 

“Harry used to make eyes at her all the time, but he hasn’t since he started dating you. You’re not his last place, you’re his first place. I know he cares about you, because I’m the one he goes to with his problems. He hasn’t been to me since you two started dating. You make him happy, and that’s not something he’s going to just toss aside for another girl.” 

_What do you know? What do you know about anything?_

“I know boys can be daft. I’ve had a crush on Harry for years, and he never noticed. He just kept telling me what a good friend I was. Then there’s Neville, who can’t get over his crush on a girl I’m quite certain doesn’t like boys. Finally there’s Ronald, whose perfect marks are because he’s hiding away in the library, trying to impress a girl who’s likely got other issues on her mind. And those are just my close friends, I know plenty more boys who are worse.” 

_So?_

“You’re nice. You’ve got a lot to say, and you’ve been there for Harry through this whole ordeal, barring this moment. If Max didn’t think you were worth his time, that’s his problem, not yours. You found someone who looks at you and no one else, and you’re giving him up because you think he might look at someone else? That’s your problem.” 

The two of them stared one another down for at least five minutes. Sally-Anne resisted the temptation to reach inside Ellie’s mind. She’d said her piece, leaving it up to Ellie whether she wanted to listen. 

“ _I need some time to think,_ ” Ellie signed at last. 

“Take all the time you need,” Sally-Anne replied. “I’ll see to it that everyone gives you that time.” 

Ellie offered her a weak smile before she left. Sally-Anne did her best to return it in kind. She and Alex watched Ellie walk off, then Alex turned back to Sally-Anne. 

“I am so proud of you, Princess.” 

“We’d best find Harry.” 

“No need, Lady Princess.” 

Alavel’s voice startled her, but she recovered before Harry and Alavel walked into view. 

“My sincerest apologies, My Lady. My curiosity got the better of me.” 

Sally-Anne smiled, knowing that Alavel was lying to protect Harry. Her smile vanished, and she attempted to look cross. 

“It’d better not happen again.” 

“You have my word.” 

Sally-Anne turned to Harry, who had returned to his normal, miserable self. Some small part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and cheer him up, but she knew better. 

“I’m so sorry about you and Ellie. I don’t know if you heard, but I meant it when I said you’ve never been happier.” 

“But I can’t be happy,” Harry said. “Not me. Not the famous Harry Potter. I’m not allowed to be happy!” 

Harry’s anger caught Sally-Anne off guard, but Alex came to her rescue. 

“Harry, break-ups are the worst, but they happen. Thinking there’s someone out there looking to make you miserable is rubbish. The only one out to get you is Malfoy, and that’s just because he’s a jerk, not because there’s some law that you can’t be happy.” 

“Think about practice today,” Sally-Anne said. She let her mind drift back to it, and realized it felt like years. “He stopped going after you and Nikolai during practice today because it didn’t bother you as much as Viktor or Michele. Nikolai just brushed off anything he said, and he didn’t attack me until he got it into his head he wanted to get rid of both of us. Show him there’s nothing to bother you, and he’ll stop.” 

“I don’t care about Malfoy!” 

Sally-Anne hesitated, but once again, she wasn’t alone. 

“You’ve got to give her time,” Alavel said. “Ms. Langley has spent most of her life believing herself to be a burden to others around her. She doesn’t understand that you don’t feel burdened by her. Give her space, and she’ll come around, but you’ve got to let her come to you.” 

True to Alavel’s advice, Sally-Anne let Harry take his time. She wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him it’d be alright, or that he could always be happy. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. 

“Alright,” Harry said. “I guess.” 

“At least you’ve got practice to keep your mind off things,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Malfoy will just ruin it again.” 

“I’ll take care of Malfoy.” Sally-Anne smiled. “Everything will be fine for tomorrow’s practice.” 

* * *

Draco paced back and forth through a section of the Dungeons trying to figure out how to get Potter off the Quidditch team. He’d tried going through Professor Snape and his father, but neither had yielded results. He’d gotten rid of Perks, but he didn’t know if his usual tactics would work. With whom would they replace her? 

“What’s it matter?” Pansy asked. 

“I didn’t ask you!” Draco snapped. 

“What about–” 

“Nor either of you! I don’t keep any of you around for your brains!” 

“Can I offer a solution?” 

All four of them turned and drew their wands when they heard Perks’s voice. 

“I’m not here for a fight,” she said. 

“Here to beg for mercy?” Draco sneered. 

“No,” Perks said, folding her hands behind her back. “I’m here to forgive you.” 

“What?!” 

“I forgive you for trying to humiliate me. I wish you hadn’t, but that’s all you know, and I respect you for remaining true to yourself.” 

What was wrong with Perks? She made no sense! He’d ruined her! Shoved her into the dirt like the filth she was, and she just came back and complemented him! 

“You’re mad!” 

“I’d like to think I’m not, but given the company I keep, I probably am.” She sighed. “The only way you and Harry can win the match is if you work together. You’ve improved a lot since joining the team, so I know you can do it. Don’t let your pride get in the way. Viktor’s fans are going to flock to him no matter what either of us do, but the real fans of the game will come to you because they see your talent.” 

“Sucking up won’t–” 

“I’m not sucking up, I’m trying to help you. Not everyone’s out to get an edge on you, Malfoy.” 

“Sure!” 

“Wake up,” Perks snapped. “You’re so busy acting as if you’re better than everyone else that you can’t realize that it takes proper work to be the best.” 

“I am the best!” Draco shot back. 

“How do you think you got picked for the team in the first place? You think it’s because you’re one of the best? Even your own house says it was a mistake to make you part of the team.” 

“You’re just jealous–” Pansy began. 

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Perks said, pulling a notebook out of her bag. “This is the roster that I put together on Professor Dumbledore’s orders. I spent weeks compiling the information. Or did no one think it odd that I had a sudden fascination with Quidditch?” 

Draco looked at the roster. The top held 12 names, and below it were names organized by school, along with numbers that were likely rankings. 

Under the Hogwarts column, his name was circled. 

“I vouched for you,” Perks said. “I gave you a chance, Draco. Despite everyone thinking it was a terrible idea to put you on the team, I thought your grudge against Harry would motivate you to work hard to stay ahead of him. Instead, you focused on getting him kicked off the team, even if it meant sabotaging the team itself.” 

Draco looked at the roster again, then at Perks. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“I just told you why. I thought it’d help you.” 

“But you hate me.” 

“No, you hate me. I don’t want us to be enemies. You’re a person beyond making snide remarks and trying to be your father.” 

Draco glared at her. What was her deal? He’d humiliated her, ripped her apart in front of everyone. None of it made sense. 

“Promise that you’ll give it your all, even if it means admitting they’re better than you, and I’ll get them to keep you on the team,” Perks said. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Never mind what everyone else thinks. Just ask yourself what your parents will think.” 

“I won’t beg for their acceptance,” Draco spat. 

“Then lie for it,” Perks said. “Go back and lie your way back onto the team. I’ll vouch for you on the condition that you don’t ruin it for anyone else. Then when you’ve won, because you gave it your all, you can brag about it for the rest of your life.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Then I guess you really are the miserable failure your father thinks you are.” 

Perks turned around and walked away, and Draco took the chance to aim his wand. 

He threw a stinging hex at her, but she spread her left palm and blocked it, all without turning around. 

“Get back here!” he shouted. 

“Think about what I’ve said,” she replied. “This is your only chance to prove your father wrong.” 

Perks didn’t say another word. She kept walking, rounded a corner, and vanished from sight. 

* * *

Sally-Anne stopped to take a breath when she knew she was out of earshot of Malfoy. 

“Thanks for telling me about his father,” she breathed. 

“You’re welcome,” Rose said. “I’m proud of you, Princess.” 

“Same to you, Rose. You haven’t taken this much interest in us all year.” 

Rose gave her a crooked smile. 

“If you’re so worried about Neville and Hermione, you should talk to them.” 

“I’m working on it,” Rose said. “Moon first, then Toad, then Brain.” 

Sally-Anne smiled at her friend. 

“I’ve missed you, Rose.” 

Rose grinned. 

“You’ll be seeing a lot more of me now.” 

Sally-Anne smiled. 

“Finished the third task?” 

Rose nodded. 

“I can’t wait to see it.” Sally-Anne hugged Rose when she saw her friend starting to look sad. “We’ll get Hermione back. Don’t worry.” 

* * *

Harry met Sally-Anne at practice the next day. He couldn’t get Ellie out of his head, but with Sally-Anne to keep tabs on him, he’d managed to keep his eyes off her. 

He’d also found that Alavel was easier to talk to than he’d thought. They’d talked the entire way to practice. He’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone with whom he could just talk. 

“You are back!” Nikolai exclaimed when he saw Sally-Anne. 

“I am, and I’m horribly sorry about yesterday. I assure you all that I’m back to my old self, so don’t think I’ll let you get away with anything from here on out.” 

“Vhat about Malfoy?” Michele asked, her voice dripping with disgust. 

“He’s still your teammate, and before any of you protest, I’ll explain more when he gets here.” 

True to her word, Sally-Anne waited until Malfoy arrived. Even more odd, she wouldn’t hear a bad word about him. 

“Well, Malfoy?” she asked him when he walked into the courtyard. “What have you got to say for yourself?” 

Harry looked around at his teammates. Michele and Viktor looked ready to kill Malfoy, but he knew the look on Sally-Anne’s face. If they wanted to get to him, they’d have to go through her, and Harry doubted the four of them combined could’ve taken on Sally-Anne at that moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Malfoy said through gritted teeth. 

“Zhat’s it?” Michele demanded. “After vhat you did—” 

“I’ve said it before,” Sally-Anne said, “it doesn’t matter what you all do outside here. Inside, during practice, you’re a team. Sabotaging each other out of spite or anger isn’t going to get you anywhere. If you think I felt humiliated the past few days, imagine what it’s going to be like when you all lose because you can’t get along.” 

Sally-Anne moved to put everyone in her view. 

“You’re all brilliant at this. Viktor, you’ve been an amazing captain. Adele, despite what you might think about your size, I think it gives you an advantage here. Michele, your confidence in yourself is admirable. Nikolai, you never let anything get to you. Harry, your reflexes are astounding. Draco, if you put your mind to work figuring out ways to win, none of you would need to practice. If you can all just work together, the other team won’t stand a chance.” 

* * *

April passed by, and finally it was time. It was the day of the match, and Harry was nervous. They were in custom uniforms for the occasion, inside the makeshift pitch that hadn’t been there the night before. 

“Welcome, everyone!” Bagman announced. “First, thank you everyone for your words of kindness after my accident. Fortunately, I’m fully recovered, and a better man for it. But you didn’t come here to hear about me! You came to watch Quidditch!” 

The crowd applauded, and after a moment of preparation, 12 players took to the sky. 

It was a good match, Harry had to admit. Cedric lead the other team well. They traded points through almost the entire match, with their team usually lagging, until there were only 30 seconds left. 

Bagman tossed the Quaffle into the air, and Cho grabbed it immediately. She hurtled down the field, tossing the Quaffle to Andrei when Viktor cut her off. He handed it off to Cedric, who raced towards the goal. 

He tossed it in, but Michele streaked through the air in a dive bomb to grab the Quaffle just centimeters from the goalpost. She passed it off to Nikolai as the crowd cheered, who tossed it to Adele when they were halfway down the field. 

Adele, Malfoy, and Harry circled around one another, passing the Quaffle back and forth, dodging around every other player in their way. 

Cedric and Cho darted between them from behind, sticking Harry with the Quaffle. He held it close as his two opponents sidled next to him, steering him away from the goal. He didn’t have a shot at the goal, but he sensed Malfoy and Adele below him. 

Cedric and Cho moved him down and away from the posts. Harry had seconds to think of a plan. 

_If I can get it to Adele, she can score. Unless that other player I’m sensing isn’t one of ours, and based on the way they’re moving, it isn’t._

Harry glanced down and saw Malfoy wide open. Despite having worked together well enough to get by in practice, Harry’s blood still boiled when he looked at the other boy. 

_Leave it in the castle until practice is over, then go back to hating him. Until then, treat him like a teammate._

Harry saw his window of opportunity closing, so he did the last thing anyone would expect. 

_What’s the point of that?_

_You can’t get out,_ Nikolai had told him, _and speed won’t let you stop and keep control. You follow other players, and they move you away. It is tactic used to compensate for bad Keeper._

_If you can’t get out, what are you supposed to do?_

_I bet I know,_ Malfoy had said. 

So Harry followed Malfoy’s suggestion; he jumped off his broom. 

As he fell through the air, he hurled the Quaffle to Malfoy, who flew it in to score the winning points. 

The crowd erupted into applause, while most of the players on the field dove towards Harry. 

Harry looked down at the grass rushing towards him, but at no point did he think it was a bad idea. 

A second before he touched down, a hand reached out and grabbed him, snatching him away from the ground. 

“Thanks, Michele,” he said. 

“Just returning zhe favor,” she replied. 

All the players circled to the ground, and Bagman awarded the victory to “Team Krum”. 

People stormed the field, everyone talking at once. 

“Not bad, Potter,” Malfoy said. 

Harry glanced at Sally-Anne, who had shoved her way through to get to Viktor. 

“I’m not the one that scored the winning goal,” he replied. “Good thing you’re better at catching than I am.” 

Harry and Malfoy smirked at one another, then parted ways to receive congratulations from their respective houses. 

Harry fought his way through the crowd, trying to be polite as everyone congratulated him. 

“Excuse me,” a baritone voice commanded. “Pardon me.” 

“Alavel!” Harry called. 

He pushed through people to reach his bodyguard. 

“Excellent work, Lord Skyeyes,” Alavel said. 

“Thanks, I– wait, what?” 

“You took my advice,” Alavel said. “You earned a new one.” 

“What for?” 

“For putting your differences aside and working with Mr. Malfoy, even after what he did. I regret that it’s all I can give you.” He handed Harry a small box, which he found contained a chain link bracelet. “Lady Rose, however, can do quite a lot more.” 

Harry reflected back on the past few months. After everything he’d endured, not being labeled for his scar and a bracelet from Rose was little consolation, but he had more than that. He had new friends he could count on, not just in his teammates, but in Alavel. 

And that was something. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure, Lord Skyeyes.” 


	25. Your Own Worst Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neville faces his worst enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** The following contains dark subject matter that some readers may find troubling. Discretion is advised.

Neville parried a blow from Taltria, then slipped out of the way of her sword. Without thinking, he tucked and rolled, dodging a blow from Alavel. He launched a quick thrust at Alavel, then took a step back and blocked another thrust from Taltria. He dodged to the right to keep them both in front of him, then landed another hit on Taltria. 

Every day for the last three months, they’d been at this. He’d learned tons about the Nimblewrights. How they moved, how they operated, what abilities they had, and, most importantly, how many hits they could take. 

It took about seven hits from the Sword of Gryffindor to take one of them out. In their current skirmish, he’d landed four on Taltria, and two on Alavel, which left three and five. 

He planted his right foot, expecting another trip attempt, then blocked another hit from Taltria. A quick parry took care of her second sword. Neville caught her with his own blade as he blocked hers. 

Alavel moved around him to take a flanking position, but Neville slipped into the space once occupied by Alavel, dodging blows from both of them as he moved. He swung hard and brought down Taltria, allowing him to keep his full attention on Alavel. 

“It’s just us now,” Neville said. “You could always give up.” 

“What makes you think it’s just us?” Alavel asked. 

Something wider than the rapiers the Nimblewrights used caught his legs and sent him tumbling to the floor. He rolled away, throwing his sword and using it to pull himself to safety. When he recovered, he didn’t see the new combatant. He whirled around in time to see the light catch something red heading towards his head. 

Neville ducked and thrust with the sword. A metal clang filled the room as metal struck metal. He pulled it back then tried again, finally getting a good look at his opponent. 

Rose twirled _Crimson Thorn_ around then whipped him into Neville’s side. He fell to the floor, trying to think of a plan before Rose got another hit. 

Her foot flew into his stomach, and he recoiled in pain. He tried to push it out of his mind, but panic set in when he couldn’t see Rose anymore. Before he could react, a boot landed on his stomach. 

_CRACK!_

Pain surged through his chest, forcing his eyes shut. When he opened them, he found himself staring up at Rose along _Crimson Thorn_. 

“You hesitated,” she said. 

“Sorry,” he wheezed. 

“Don’t apologize! I just beat you. You’re not supposed to apologize to me!” 

“Sorry.” 

Rose rolled her eyes and waved her hand. As it was when Taltria and Alavel used the staves she’d provided, his wounds mended themselves. 

“What was I supposed to do?” 

“I’m not here to teach you,” Rose said as she walked over to the Nimblewrights. “I’m here to assess your progress.” 

Something about her tone threw Neville off. Her normal cheer was gone. She sounded cold. 

“I can beat them without taking a hit,” Neville said. 

“I’d hope so. You’ve been doing this for long enough. If you hadn’t learned how to take them out by now, I’d be worried.” 

Her words stung him. He’d always imagined telling Rose about how practice was going. She’d be proud of him, telling him what a great job he’d been doing. In all his daydreams, he’d never imagined she’d be annoyed. 

_Why would she be proud of me? No one’s proud of me._

He didn’t get off the floor. What little strength he had went into keeping him sitting upright. 

“That!” Rose shouted, turning and pointing at him. “That’s your problem! You care too much what everyone else thinks! It’s easy to tear you down. You think Malfoy’s not going to try? He might be pals with Princess and Skyeyes, but he’s not your friend! If he doesn’t, someone else will. If not before, then Delacour will give it her best shot during. Don’t think you’ll have any friends inside the maze.” 

Neville shrank against Rose’s words. He wanted to be strong for her, but he didn’t have it in him. He was still the same weakling he’d always been. 

“Lady Rose, I believe you’ve made your point,” Alavel said. “Your harsh words are no longer helpful.” 

Rose glared at Neville one more time before vanishing from the Room of Requirement. 

“We feared as much,” Alavel said. “When you become comfortable with a situation, you handle yourself well. Most of your life will likely be situations with which you find little comfort. Lady Rose wished to know how you’d handle yourself when caught off guard.” 

“Oh.” 

Neville walked out of the Room of Requirement in a slump. After everything he’d done, all the time he’d spent training, he was still nothing. Every morning, for nearly six hours, he sparred against Taltria and Alavel. He could beat them both easily, but Rose thought he still wasn’t good enough. What more did he have to do? 

None of the three of them spoke a word on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. It wasn’t a long walk; Neville was thankful for the Room of Requirement being on the same floor as his common room. If he’d been sorted into Hufflepuff, the silence would’ve been unbearable. 

Wednesday meant he had the entire day to himself, but he didn’t know what else there was to do. He tried working on classwork, but all he could think was that he was supposed to be training. 

Neville closed his Charms book and crammed it back in his pack. It wasn’t as if he could cast any of the spells in it. He glanced up and saw Ron moving around the library and wondered how he’d done it. Ron’s marks were average at first, but now they were perfect. Even in Potions, where Snape had always found something wrong with even Hermione’s work. 

_He’s just good at it. I’m not good at anything._

He left the library the same way he’d moved around all day, dragging himself from place to place. He paid so little attention to where he was going that he nearly missed Luna on his way out. 

“Salutations, Toad.” 

Neville looked up at her. She looked just as she always did: happy and carefree, with the same sideways smile on her face. 

“Hi, Luna.” 

“Where are you going?” 

Neville opened his mouth, but couldn’t come up with an answer. He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was he wanted to walk around. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Can I come?” 

Neville frowned at her. What sort of person asked to follow someone who didn’t know where they were going? 

“I guess.” 

“Thank you.” 

Luna walked happily alongside him on his way upstairs. Apart from that, he didn’t know where he was going. That never seemed to bother Luna. 

“Are you ready for the next task?” she asked. 

“No. I’m never going to be.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I’m just a worthless coward, and everyone knows it!” 

“No, you’re not,” Luna said, undisturbed by his outburst. “I know you can be brave, Toad. Even if you aren’t always, you always try to be.” 

“Thanks, but you don’t mean that. You’re just being nice.” 

“Why would I say something I didn’t mean?” 

“I don’t know. Just forget I said anything.” 

“I don’t think I can do that either.” 

They walked in silence for another few minutes. Neville didn’t know what to say, if anything. No matter how hard he worked, he knew he wouldn’t be ready for the task, and no one could change that. 

“Luna, have you ever felt like the whole world’s against you?” 

“Yes,” she replied. “I feel like that a lot.” 

“What do you do? How do you handle it?” 

Luna tilted her head. “I’m not sure. I think I just ignore it. Why?” 

Once again, Neville found himself regretting his decision to talk to Luna. She was nice enough, but Neville found her difficult to talk to about anything. He couldn’t talk to Rose, and he didn’t know his other friends that well. 

“It feels like nowhere’s safe anymore. Like everyone’s waiting for me to make a mistake, and I can’t take it anymore!” 

“That’s how I felt when I first learned about the Rotfang Conspiracy, but don’t worry; it’s not nearly as bad as it seems.” 

Neville stopped walking, grateful for anything that could take his mind off the Triwizard Tournament. He didn’t know what the Rotfang Conspiracy was, but it had to be better than his other problems. 

“What’s the Rotfang Conspiracy?” Neville asked, walking through the looking glass into Luna’s world. 

“It’s a movement within the Ministry,” Luna explained proudly. “They’re trying to destroy it from the inside out using Dark Magic and gum disease. The Aurors are part of it, and I think they’ve started recruiting at Hogwarts.” 

_I’m sure I’ll regret asking this,_ Neville thought. “How are they going to use gum disease to take down the Ministry?” 

Neville allowed Luna to explain the inner workings of the Rotfang Conspiracy to him, and he was thankful for the distraction. At least, he was until he realized that was all it was: a distraction. He had just a few weeks until the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, and he would fail. 

No matter how hard Neville worked, deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough, that it would never be enough. 

“Toad, are you listening?” 

Neville jumped and looked at Luna. She’d stopped talking, and he had no idea what she’d said. 

“I’m sorry, I just… My mind’s somewhere else.” 

“Oh. Do you know where it is?” 

“No, I mean I’m still thinking about the tournament.” 

“Oh. What about it?” 

“I already said. I just don’t know what to do.” 

Luna frowned, an expression Neville wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on Luna’s face. She looked down at Tutela, who stared intently back at Luna. Neither of them moved, save for the occasional twitch or odd facial expression. 

After a few minutes during which Neville questioned several times what was going on, Luna turned back to Neville. 

“You’ll be alright.” 

“You can’t possibly know that. No one can. No one knows what’s going to happen.” 

“I know you. You never give up, even when things look bad. And… and you remind me that there’s always someone who cares.” 

For possibly the first time since the second task, Neville stopped feeling miserable. Happy was still a stretch, but he felt like he had energy again. 

“Really?” 

“Of course.” 

“Thanks, Luna.” 

“You’re welcome, Toad.” 

* * *

Rose was missing the rest of the day. She’d shown up occasionally to meals in the past week, but never to class. Neville wasn’t surprised; who’d want to spend time with him? 

There was no practice the next morning. Neville struggled through Divination, then through Transfiguration. He caught Professor McGonagall eyeing him during class. Even she knew he was a failure, she was just too nice to say anything about it. 

“Longbottom!” 

Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Professor Moody wasn’t. 

“I know you of all people can do better than that!” he snapped. “If we were attacked by a dark wizard right now, I’d expect you to fare better than most!” 

“Sorry, Professor,” Neville mumbled. 

On his way out of class, Neville realized he would have Potions the next day. If anything would make his condition worse, it’d be Potions. 

Rose caught him as he filed out of class. 

“With me,” she said. 

“What?” 

“Don’t ask questions, just follow me.” 

Neville glanced back at his friends. Ron had already started for the library, but Sally-Anne and Harry both shrugged. 

“Don’t look at them!” 

Rose didn’t speak a word until they were out of the castle. 

“If you hesitate out there, you’ll die,” she said. “You can’t be standing in your own way. This might kill you, but if it doesn’t fix the problem, then you’re gonna die anyway.” 

“What?” 

“I’ve been working on it for a few days after Alavel gave his last report. I interrupted practice yesterday to see for myself. You’re hesitating. You do that in the maze, you’re dead. You second guess yourself, you’re dead. And that’s assuming nothing goes wrong, which it probably will.” 

“I thought you said you’d covered it.” 

“They thought of something I didn’t, and it got your name in the Goblet of Fire. If they think of something I don’t, it could be a lot worse. I’ve got contingencies for you or Skyeyes being captured, but if something goes wrong, you need to be ready.” 

Neville remembered what Alavel had said the day before. 

“I can’t.” 

“Exactly the problem.” 

She led him through the Forbidden Forest. He ducked and dodged familiar branches. He found that he didn’t need to think about where he was going; one look and he knew where they were. 

“What… what are we doing?” 

Rose stopped and pointed to a pitch black circle surrounding a group of trees. 

“I call it the ‘Nightmare Scenario’.” 

“So I’m gonna face my worst nightmare?” Neville asked. “Like a boggart? How will that help? It was just Professor Snape last year.” 

“Not quite,” Rose said. “You’ll see. Just step inside that line.” 

“What happens then?” 

“You’ll see something. So long as it’s there, you can’t leave. The scenario stays active until either the illusion disappears, or you die.” 

“Illusions can’t hurt me, right?” 

“This one will feel real, but it likely won’t kill you.” She motioned to the circle. “Step inside.” 

Neville did as he was told, and the moment he did, Rose vanished. He looked around the forest, but saw nothing but trees. A twig snapped, and he whipped his head around, drawing the Sword of Gryffindor. 

“Who’s there?” he called. “Show yourself!” 

“It’s alright,” a boy’s voice said. 

He stepped into view, and Neville found himself staring at… himself. 

“It’s only a nightmare,” Other Neville said. 

He looked like Neville, but this Neville smirked back at him with a confidence Neville didn’t know. It was more than simple confidence; it was arrogance. He looked as if the whole world belonged to him, and everyone else existed to serve him. 

Neville held the sword across his chest, anticipating some sort of attack. 

“As if you could stop me if I tried to hurt you,” Evil Neville said. “You’ve had so much fun playing pretend, but now it’s time to go crying home to Gran like always.” 

“I’m… I’m not playing!” 

“Sure you are. That’s all you’ve been doing. Unless you actually think you could hold your own in a fight.” 

“I can beat Taltria and Alavel!” 

_Unless they’ve been going easy on me this entire time._

“We both know they’ve been going easy on you. Just like your friends did, just like Rose has been doing. All to spare you your precious feelings.” 

Neville lowered the sword. He held his gaze towards Evil Neville, but he wasn’t looking at him. The times that he’d practiced danced through his mind. Had it all been a lie? 

“I… I made it through the first task!” 

Evil Neville smirked at him. 

“Of course, you did. It wouldn’t have been as much fun if you’d died then.” 

“Fun?” 

“For Rose.” 

Neville flinched at her name. When Evil Neville saw his reaction, he smirked again. 

“Aw, did you really think she loved you back?” 

His words hit Neville hard, and he began to shake. Deep down, he’d known he was in love with Rose. 

“She’s perfect, and you’re nothing. Or did you think winning the tournament would make her fall in love with you?” 

Neville blushed. The thought had crossed his mind more than once. He’d imagined himself holding the Triwizard Trophy high, with his other arm around Rose. She’d have an enormous grin on her face and tell him how proud of him she was. 

“Back in the real world, she’s been trying to kill you for months.” 

He snapped out of his daydream and turned his attention back to Evil Neville. 

“You aren’t their friend. You’re the annoying kid who won’t stop following them around. Rose is just the only one who’s done something about it. She put your name in the Goblet of Fire, so she could use the tournament to kill you.” 

Neville knew it was wrong, but something inside him said it wasn’t. Every memory he had of his friends smiling at him… had it just been an act? They’d all been polite. After he’d left, they must’ve stopped smiling. 

“ _Finally, he’s gone,_ ” Sally-Anne would’ve said. 

“ _I deserve a medal for bearing the ball,_ ” Ginny would’ve added. “ _You can’t imagine going with that loser._ ” 

“ _That’s what happens when you draw the short straw,_ ” Ron would’ve sneered. 

Suddenly, their smiles turned mean. In every memory he had of them, they all laughed at him. Just like everyone else. 

_Stinkbottom!_

_He’s such a loser!_

“If… if Rose wanted me dead, why didn’t she just kill me in the first task?” 

Other Neville’s smile grew wider. 

“Because she was having too much fun. How delightful it must be to get to kill you. That’s why she worked so hard to save you in the second task; she didn’t want her fun to end.” 

_No, you can’t die yet! I’m not finished with you!_

“But… but Professor Dumbledore—” 

“How do you think she got your name in the goblet? You’ve been nothing but an embarrassment to Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore will be happy when you’re finally gone.” 

_He’s the worst student at my school, but we can’t just expel him for that. If only there were a way to get rid of him._

Neville heard the Sword of Gryffindor hit the ground. It felt far off, as if it were someone else’s problem. Maybe it was. 

“No one cares,” Other Neville said. 

“No one cares,” Neville repeated. 

“You’ve been nothing but a worthless embarrassment all your life. Rose hates you. Dumbledore hates you. Gran hates you.” 

_If only Lestrange had done him in too, I wouldn’t be stuck with him!_

He fell to his knees and stared at the ground. He was nothing. He’d never be worth anything. 

“There you are,” Better Neville said. “On your knees, begging for mercy. Right where you belong.” 

Worthless Neville’s world fell apart around him. Everyone hated him. Rose was trying to kill him. 

“Please stop,” was all he could manage. 

“The only mercy you’ll get is the one you give yourself.” Better Neville crouched down and smiled at him. “Only you can make it all stop.” 

Worthless Neville stared back at him. It took him a moment to realize what he meant. When he did, he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword. The sword given to those who were brave. He didn’t deserve to wield it. 

“One last time. It will bring you what you want.” 

Worthless Neville picked up the sword, then looked up at Better Neville. 

“Will it hurt?” 

“No worse than it does now.” 

He picked up the sword and aimed it towards his stomach. His hands shook as he held it at the ready. Before he made another move, a hand rested gently on his own. 

“If you really care about them,” Better Neville said, “then this is the best thing you can do for them. Free them from their burden. Free them from yourself.” 

Pain shot through his body as the sword ripped a hole in his stomach. Neville squeezed his eyes shut and forced the sword in deeper. Blood spilled over his hands, and tears ran down his face. 

“Draw it out, and it will all be over soon.” 

Neville did as he was told. He dropped the sword on the ground, then curled up beside it. All he could do was shiver. He’d never realized how cold the world was. 

Images of his so-called friends danced before him. They were all happy to be free of him. Rose would be happy that she’d finally succeeded. That’s why she’d sent him into the Nightmare Scenario. She’d grown tired of playing with him. 

Gran would be the happiest of all. He’d been such a disappointment to her, to his parents. Pretending that they’d talk again one day. Pretending that he’d be able to stop Lestrange from hurting anyone else. 

He saw her. The mad woman in a cage, laughing at him. His parents were empty because of her. He’d never hear them speak again. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Be thankful that they never saw what a disappointment you’ve been to them.” 

The trees and forest blurred together. The pain slowly died away. Soon, everyone would be free of him. 

Images formed in front of his eyes. He saw himself as a child, no more than six, talking to Gran. 

_Your parents can’t talk. A woman called Bellatrix Lestrange hurt them so bad that they can’t talk anymore. They don’t know who you are, or even who they are._

_Will they get better?_

_They might. One day._

_Tomorrow?_

_Maybe tomorrow._

“Maybe tomorrow.” 

They faded away and an 11-year-old Neville sat with his parents. 

_There’s a girl at school called Rose. People say she killed a troll! I didn’t know kids could do that! If kids can kill trolls, maybe… maybe someone will find a cure for you._

The image of him changed to become a few years older. 

_If Sirius Black can break out, then she can break out, and if she can break out… then I’m gonna be there to stop her._

“What?” 

_I’m going to make sure she never hurts anyone ever again._

“No one wanted you to. Let people who matter deal with her. You’re nothing. Just a miserable, worthless coward.” 

_I know you can be brave, Toad._ Luna’s voice was warm, kind. He couldn’t see her smile, but he could hear it in her words. She never laughed at him; she never laughed at anyone. _Even if you aren’t always brave, you always try to be._

“I can be brave.” 

“No, you can’t. Don’t give up now. They’re all counting on you not making it out of here. All you’ve got to do is let go.” 

“If I die… I’ll never hear them talk again. I’ll let them down.” 

_I want to learn to fight._

_I’m gonna be there to stop her._

_Maybe tomorrow._

“You’re nothing. Everyone hates you.” 

“They… don’t.” 

“No one cares.” 

_There’s always someone who cares._

“I… care.” 

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t beat her, and you know it. Stop wasting everyone else’s time and just die already.” 

_Some days it’ll feel like you didn’t do anything…_

“You’re nothing.” 

_…and others you’ll want to quit…_

“Just die.” 

“But I… promised… them.” 

_…but you’ve got to keep moving forward, because that’s the only way you’ll ever get to where you’re going._

“Just keep moving forward.” 

_Do you really think I can do it?_

Neville brought a shaky hand to his side. It took everything he had to press down on his wound, but it was at that moment that he made his choice. 

_I know you can._

“She won’t… get away.” 

It’d taken him all year, but he finally remembered why he’d wanted to learn to fight in the first place. It wasn’t to impress Rose, or to make her fall in love with him. It wasn’t to impress his friends, or anyone else. He wanted to learn to fight to stop Lestrange. 

“You can’t stop her.” 

“Maybe not… but I won’t… let them down.” 

A weight was on Neville’s shoulders, and he wanted nothing more than to let it crush him, but if it did, he’d never hear his parents talk again. Worse than that, he’d break his promise to them. 

“Your parents will never talk again,” Other Neville said. 

“Maybe… tomorrow.” 

Neville realized what he’d done, as if he’d just woken from a dream. He saw his own blood on his hands and pressed harder on the wound. He forced himself to stay awake as Other Neville glared down at him. 

“I believe in myself,” Neville panted. “Maybe I’m not worth it… but if I quit now, I know I’m not. I’ll never quit. I’m gonna spend every second working to keep my promise to Mum and Dad.” 

The forest came back into focus. Blurred images faded to green, then took coherent shapes. 

“They want you dead.” 

Neville moved his eyes to glare at Other Neville. 

“Prove it.” 

For once, Other Neville had nothing to say. 

“I hate the tournament. I hate that I’ve got to compete. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I work to go after Lestrange. She’s the only thing that matters. The tournament doesn’t matter. You don’t matter.” 

Neville forced himself back to his knees. As he returned to reality, the pain returned to his body. He gritted his teeth and held tightly to his side. His hands were already covered in blood, making it impossible to tell if he was losing less. 

“You really think you can survive this?” 

“Better. I can live through it.” 

With all his might, he climbed to his feet. He screamed as a wave of pain shot through his body like wildfire, but what he said next, he needed to say to Evil Neville’s face. 

“If you’re not gonna help me, then get the Hells out of my way.” 

Evil Neville smirked, and Good Neville wanted to punch him. 

“Well, it certainly took you long enough.” 

With that, Evil Neville disappeared into a wisp of smoke, leaving Neville all alone in the forest. 

A wave of euphoria spread through Neville’s body, and he let out a mad laugh. 

“I did it!” he exclaimed. “I…” 

He collapsed on the forest floor before he could speak another word. 

“Toad!” 

Rose’s voice was far away, but Neville tried to listen for it. It was soft and magical compared to Evil Neville’s voice. It was so beautiful that Neville wanted to fall asleep listening to it. 

“Stay with me! Stay awake! I just need 12 seconds!” 

“I’m so tired,” he mumbled. 

“Don’t do this to me! Stay awake! Please!” 

He felt Rose jostling him, but he couldn’t get up. He wanted to fall asleep. Rest was good, right? Especially with the next task so close. 

“I believed in myself,” Neville said. “You fixed it.” 

“Tell me how amazing I am later, Toad,” Rose said. “I can’t bring you back if you die like this!” 

“I’m not gonna die, I’m just gonna rest.” 

“Stay awake for another two seconds.” 

A warmth enveloped him, and all the pain vanished. Neville opened his eyes and saw Rose sitting over him. The sun lit up her face, making her look like an angel. 

“I’ve got a guardian angel,” he said. 

“You don’t need a guardian angel, Toad. You’ll be fine, all on your own.” 

Neville wanted to stare at Rose forever. She looked beautiful in the fading light, and her smile was so warm and comforting. 

“What are you smiling at?” Rose asked. 

“You look good in the light like that,” Neville said. 

“Aw! Thank you!” 

She threw her arms around him and held him close. 

“I’ve lost so much,” she said. “I’m glad I didn’t lose you.” 

Neville put his arms around Rose. He never wanted to let go. For the first time in months, he felt happy again. He wanted to tell Rose how she made him feel, but something told him it wasn’t the right time. Instead, Neville asked her something that had been nagging at him in the back of his mind for months. 

“You believe in me, right?” he asked. 

“I never stopped believing in you. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, but I thought you’d be better if you had to make it on your own. But like I said before the first task: I know you’re ready. We all do.” 

She pulled away from him and pressed something into his hand. It was a small disc, like a wheel. Between the spokes were eight chambers. 

“Moon and I made that for you,” Rose said. “I made the disc, but she carved the runes on the back.” 

Neville flipped it over and found hundreds of tiny runes etched into it. 

“Hook it on to the Sword of Gryffindor and put some of your magic plant stuff in the chambers. Push the center, and it will imbue the sword with the front one.” She smiled. “Professor Sprout said they don’t last forever, so she thought you would want something to help.” 

Neville thought back to everything he’d seen inside the Nightmare Scenario. At the time, it’d been all that mattered. Looking back, it seemed so silly. Of course his friends didn’t hate him. 

“Thank you.” 

“Moon helped too. I think she’s worried about you.” 

Neville hooked the disc onto the Sword of Gryffindor. 

“When we go to dinner, don’t let me forget to talk to Ginny. Sally-Anne said she’s been upset because I asked her to the ball, but never asked her out again.” 

Rose nodded. 

“You could always try asking her out,” she said. 

“I thought maybe I’d like her,” Neville said. “But… I don’t know. She’s always so… rough.” 

“I’ve never been one for it either. Personally, I like quiet, paranoid, and brooding.” 

As Neville sat on the floor of the Forbidden Forest, he thought back to the past few minutes. He remembered everything the other Neville had said, and everything he’d done. 

“It’s odd,” he said. “It all feels like a dream.” 

“That’s why I called it the ‘Nightmare Scenario’,” Rose said. “Oh, you’ll hallucinate for a while, but that’s probably normal.” 

“How long?” 

“I’ll let you know when I stop seeing another me.” 

“What did you see?” Neville asked. 

“Me.” 

“No, I mean, what did–” 

“That’s not important. What’s important is that we both beat it, and came out stronger for it. Don’t worry about the tournament now. Just be Toad, Loyal to the Earth.” 

Neville laughed. “Where’d you get that?” 

“The Dwarven word for ‘toad’ is _thorthen_ , which literally translates as ‘loyal to the earth’.” 

Neville frowned, not sure he’d ever entirely understand Rose’s world. 

“Why?” 

“I dunno!” Rose exclaimed. “I could always call you ‘small croaky thing’!” 

“I’ll take Toad,” Neville said, laughing. 

Neville and Rose sat in the forest for a time before going to dinner. Even with the final task looming over him, Neville wasn’t scared anymore. 

_Do you really think I can do it?_

_I know you can._

_Me too,_ Neville thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Extended Author's Note](https://idxwriting.wordpress.com/2017/05/18/choosing-the-sword/)


	26. The Frogs and The Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is much growth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns the frogs, I own the roses.

Hermione jumped when the doorbell rang, nearly losing her book. She flipped back through to find her place (not that it mattered; she’d memorized the book), while her mum answered the door. 

“Oh. Oh my,” she heard. “Hermione! You’ve got company!” 

Hermione looked up from her book. She couldn’t think of anyone that was allowed to come and used the door. Nor someone that would illicit such a reaction from her mum. 

When her visitor walked into view, Hermione discovered why her mum sounded shocked. 

It was Rose — there was no mistaking that hair — but she was distinctly different from the last time Hermione had seen her. 

“You… grew.” 

Rose was at least a foot taller than she’d been when Hermione had seen her last. Even her face looked different. 

Her mum followed Rose into the living room, then nodded to her dad. 

“We’ll be upstairs if you girls need us,” her mum said. 

Rose smiled politely at Hermione’s parents as they slipped off to go upstairs, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Why’d you change?” Hermione asked. 

“You don’t need a little kid right now,” Rose said. “You just need a friend.” 

“I had a great one, but she’s been off trying to impress her girlfriend.” 

Rose frowned and furled her brow. 

“What?” 

“Isn’t that why you’ve been working so hard on the third task? To impress Sylvia? Or can I call her Shadow?” 

Rose smiled softly. “Sylvia’s not Shadow. She… it calls itself Slytherin.” 

She went on to explain who Sylvia was. She told Hermione about the entity that called itself Slytherin. How it’d taken over Luna’s mind to get Rose’s attention. That it’d sent the dragon after them to test Rose. That it’d been the one that had stopped Rose from talking to her family the previous year. 

“It wants me to find these things called ‘Horcruxes’,” Rose finished. “It says it wants to destroy Voldemort.” She held up a locket around her neck. “This was the last one we needed. It said the real Salazar Slytherin had always meant to give it to one of his children, to his daughter Rosalind. I think Slytherin sees me as a replacement for her.” 

“It tried to kill us, and you brought it as your date to the ball?” 

“That was the price of this one. I… There was someone else I’d have rather asked, but I didn’t want people to think she was like me. So Slytherin offered to pretend to be my date, using some sort of perception magic so no one would remember ‘her’. In exchange, I tracked down the locket over the winter holiday.” 

Hermione took a moment to take it all in, and to give Rose a break. Then she pointed out the flaw in Rose’s plan. 

“I hate to tell you, but I can remember her.” 

“ _Mind blank_ stopped it from working on you, just like occlumency stopped it from working on Professor Dumbledore.” 

Hermione nodded, then beckoned Rose to join her on the couch. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me about her in the first place?” 

“Slytherin told me that it doesn’t hurt anyone because it wants to remain hidden. If people knew about it, it wouldn’t have any reason to leave them alone.” 

“If I go back, won’t it just kill me for knowing about it?” 

“Professor Dumbledore knows, but it keeps him alive. I think it’s trying to earn my trust.” 

“Why you? What makes you so special?” 

Rose raised an eyebrow, something Hermione wasn’t sure she’d ever done. 

“You know what I mean. Why not convince a member of staff, or just another student?” 

Rose held up the locket again. “In order to get this, I had to open a hidden chamber on a beach. Then cross a lake full of… inferi, then at the center of the lake was a basin full of this stuff Slytherin called ‘emerald potion’. If you drink it, it causes fatigue and thirst. If you try drinking from the lake, you disturb the inferi, and they attack you. There was no way to get through the potion, at the bottom of which lay the locket, without drinking it. The basin was immune to magic, but not to _mountain hammer_. So I broke it and dumped it.” 

Hermione let out a small chuckle, but regained her composure quickly. 

“As amusing as you are, that doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Slytherin needed someone that could easily recover each Horcrux. I had to break into Gringotts for one of them, after I’d broken into Azkaban to find out that it was in Gringotts, after I’d infiltrated the Ministry, although that was probably the easiest of the bunch. Another one was hidden in a rundown old house filled with traps that anyone from this world would’ve set off.” 

Hermione nodded. Rose hadn’t said why she needed the Horcruxes, but whatever it was, to go through the trouble it’d gone, they must’ve been important to Slytherin. Still, that left her with another question. 

“Then why bother making the tasks perfect? What’s the point? If you wanted to have something to do, you’d have just made one of us something. This can’t be about having fun. That’s not why you forgot to tell my parents about Professor Lupin, or didn’t take the six seconds it takes to cast _wish_ to cover the first task.” 

“That one wasn’t that simple.” 

“Really? You couldn’t have just dismantled it, or just said ‘I wish it were sealed’?” 

“I tried that, and the spell created 25,000 gold worth of adamantine to seal it. Do you know how much adamantine that is?” 

“Why would I?” 

“Twenty cubic feet. It was nothing. So I just tossed a _permanent image_ on it, and that was it. That took six seconds.” 

“And nearly got Ron killed,” Hermione growled. 

“What nearly got him killed was you not letting me heal him.” 

“‘I can fix him!’ you said. I know how you ‘fix’ NPCs.” 

“No, I said I could heal him, and he’s not an NPC. He’s my friend.” 

“Since when?” 

“Since always, but I knew he wasn’t an NPC when he nearly gave his life for you last year. Twice.” 

Hermione thought of Ron standing over her, protecting her from danger. He’d been willing to lay down his own life for her, even after she’d refused to speak to him for five months. The thought of him made her cry. 

“I miss him,” she said. 

“He misses you, too. He’s shut himself away in the library. Princess says it’s because he’s trying to impress you with his marks.” 

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. 

“Is he alright?” 

“Princess has been checking on him for me. I…” 

“Thank you for looking after him for me. He might be an insensitive moron, but he’s my insensitive moron.” She smiled at Rose and wiped away some tears. “Just like you might be a mad girl, but you’re my mad girl.” 

Rose looked away, and Hermione swore she saw her blush. 

“That all still doesn’t answer my question. Why work so hard on the tasks? I know you take pride in your work, but this has been an obsession.” 

Rose looked down and spoke softly. 

“Because I wanted to impress you. I didn’t want you to hate me.” 

“I don’t hate you.” 

Rose shook her head. “Not… not yet.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“When I broke the time turner, I was in some weird mixture of timelines. I saw a future you, and… and she hated me. She said I’d done something to her, something that I’d always do, because it was who I was.” Rose looked up at her, and Hermione saw the impossible tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand losing you.” 

Hermione had a lot of questions, but she started with an easy one. “How are you crying?” 

“ _Disguise self_ lets me create an illusion around me. They’re not real.” 

Hermione sat in silence for a moment before asking her next question. Before she could, Rose spoke again. 

“I might never go home. I might’ve already lost my family.” Rose shook her head, trying to speak, but it wasn’t for a few moments that she did. “I can’t lose you.” 

Hermione saw the fear in Rose’s eyes. It was something Hermione herself had grown accustomed to feeling. The fear that she’d never see the people she loved again. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“How’d you move on after Valignatiejir?” 

What little optimism might’ve returned to her faded away to nothing. 

“I haven’t. It’s still there, in the back of my head. His laugh.” Rose shuddered and drew her legs in. “Those eyes.” 

Rose shook and held her legs tightly. Hermione could hear her shaking in her breathing. 

“It’ll all be a part of me forever.” 

Hermione’s heart sank. 

“I can still hear that man’s voice. I see the fires when I close my eyes.” 

Rose took Hermione’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

“Then be here now. We can face our demons together.” 

In spite of the pain both of them remembered, they smiled at one another. 

“I’d like nothing more, Brain.” 

* * *

Three weeks later, the girls appeared outside Hogwarts. Hermione stared up at the castle as it towered over her. She squeezed Rose’s hand. 

“You’ve been doing fine,” Rose said. “We went to Hogsmeade every day this week to prepare, remember?” 

As she’d practiced, Hermione directed her thoughts back to the past week. Thinking of her outings (which Rose insisted on calling “dates”) with Rose gave her comfort and put her mind at ease. 

“If we keep holding hands, people might talk,” Hermione said. 

“So?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and took her hand away. 

Rose gave a huff. 

“Fine, then I’ll go spend time with Sylvia instead.” 

“Rose, please don’t joke about leaving me on my own.” 

“I won’t anymore.” 

Hermione looked up at the gates of Hogwarts again and sighed. 

“Here goes nothing.” 

Together, they walked inside the castle. It felt foreign to her after so much time at home, but what little familiarity she found in it brought her comfort. 

“I’ve missed it here.” 

“Where do you want to go first?” 

“The library,” Hermione replied without giving it another thought. 

Rose smiled slyly. “Do you want me to leave you alone with Cohort?” 

Hermione blushed, but didn’t say anything. 

“To the library!” Rose exclaimed, then took Hermione’s hand again and led her to the library. When they arrived, Intelligencer flew out of Rose’s basket and perched on Hermione’s shoulder. 

“Hey, Int,” she said, patting the homunculus on the head. “I missed you.” 

“Just to warn you, he’ll probably say something stupid when he sees you.” 

“I know. I’m counting on it.” 

Hermione walked into the library, then turned back to Rose. 

“Ron hasn’t been in there the entire time I’ve been gone, has he?” 

“I think he leaves for class.” 

“But you don’t go to class, so how would you know?” 

Rose just shrugged. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

Hermione turned and walked into the library. She didn’t know exactly where she was going, but some quick directions from Rose got her on her way. Before long, she found him. 

Ron sat in a chair, reading, with a stack of three books sitting beside him. 

“Ron.” 

He looked up and stared at her before responding. His mouth hung open as if to say something, but he only found one word. 

“Hermione.” 

She smiled at him. A thousand lines went through her head, but none of them seemed good enough to say after having not seen him in months. 

“Your… erm… your hair clip’s in,” he said. 

“Yeah.” She touched it as if to reassure herself that it was still in her hair. “I thought… Do you like it?” 

“Erm… I guess.” 

She blushed and tried not to laugh at him. 

“What are you doing in here?” 

“You know, studying.” 

“I’m glad you’re finally taking your coursework seriously.” 

“It’s not that hard when you get the hang of it.” 

She stifled another laugh then glanced at the book he was reading. 

“World War II? Is that what you’re studying in Muggle Studies?” 

“No, I already studied for my exams. We’re learning about it next year.” 

“Oh.” Hermione couldn’t think of anything else to say. She caught herself before rambling on about everything she knew about World War II. It’d just sound stupid when she said it, and he’d learn all about it anyway. 

“What… what have you been doing?” Ron asked. 

“Same as you. Reading a lot.” Hermione took a few steps forward. “Not much else to do.” 

“Yeah.” 

Hermione tried to think of something else to say. Anything would be better than standing around awkwardly. After getting nothing helpful, she gave up and just said what was on her mind. 

“Would you do something for me? Please?” 

Ron frowned. “What?” 

“I need you to stand up.” 

“What for?” 

“Because I haven’t seen you in months, and I thought I would never see you again, and if there’s one thing I’ve wanted more than to come back here, it’s to hear you say something stupid again. So get out of that _gromphun_ chair, Ronald Weasley, so I can give you a hug, because I’ve missed you, stupid!” 

By the time she’d finished, Hermione was in tears. Ron put his book down, and Hermione hauled him to his feet and threw her arms around him. 

“I… erm… I guess I missed you a bit, too.” 

Hermione laughed, but refused to let go of Ron. She’d had to wait months, but seeing him somehow made everything worth it. 

* * *

After a few days, everyone began to grow accustomed to seeing Hermione again. She sat and talked with them as much as she could, even attended Transfiguration class with them on one occasion (although remained forbidden from using magic). Neville didn’t know who was happier to see her: Ron, Rose, Ginny, or Professor Vector. 

As happy as he was to see Hermione again, his mind stayed focused on the third task. 

All afternoon on the 24th of June, carriages arrived carrying families and loved ones. His gran arrived, Luna’s dad, Hermione’s parents, Remus and Sirius, even Sally-Anne’s parents were there. 

“They’re letting you stay?” Ginny asked Hermione when her parents arrived. 

“That depends on how things go,” Hermione’s mum said. “But for now, yes.” 

Neville saw Hermione’s dad eyeing Hermione and Ron, who were holding hands. 

“Is he treating you right?” he asked. 

“Rose wouldn’t let me live if I didn’t,” Ron replied. 

“She’d let you live,” Hermione said. “Just not comfortably.” 

Neville glanced over at Sally-Anne’s parents, who were talking with Sally-Anne, Alex, and Professor McGonagall. Not far from them were Sirius, Remus, Alavel, and Harry. Harry caught his eye, and mouthed “good luck”. 

As people began moving towards the Quidditch pitch, Ginny caught up with him. 

“Good luck, Toad.” 

“Thanks, Firecracker.” 

She turned to leave, but then turned back. 

“Sorry I’ve been so… mean this year.” 

“It was my fault,” Neville said. “I should’ve told you about everything earlier.” 

She smiled at him again before catching up with the rest of her clan. 

On his way to the pitch, Rose intercepted him and brought him to where he was sure the players changed. Instead of going inside, she led him out of the way, where it was hard to hear the crowd. 

“In my world, people like me are called _ajraesthyr_ , or ‘lover of women’. It means I’m attracted to girls, not boys.” 

Neville’s heart stopped for just a moment. His face flushed, but he pushed it aside. 

“I didn’t tell you before because I loved the way you looked at me. No one’s ever looked at me like that. But it doesn’t matter now. I shouldn’t have led you on. I’m sorry.” 

Neville collected his thoughts. It hurt knowing that Rose couldn’t return his feelings, but at the same time, he felt relieved. 

“I forgive you, Rose. And thanks for telling me now, and not sooner. If you had told me before the Nightmare Scenario, it would’ve crushed me. I thought… I thought you’d wanted to get rid of me before that.” 

Rose smiled at him, lifting his spirits again. He smiled back at her, but kept in mind that she didn’t feel the same way he did. Even then, he didn’t feel sad. 

“Every day, I wanted to help everyone, but I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to talk to Brain, because I thought I’d just screw everything up. Professor Dumbledore told me I had to find ways to help you without spending too much time with you. I can’t explain to Moon that I am helping her.” 

Neville thought back to his talks with Luna. He’d found himself talking with her more over the past few weeks, just to hear her eternal optimism. 

“That pendant you made for her is nice.” 

Rose shrugged. “I should’ve been there for all of you.” 

“Had you been there all this time, I’d never have learned to fend for myself.” 

“You all look at me like I’m a hero, but I’m not. I’m just a girl. In my world, you’ve got to be the strongest, otherwise someone stronger will come in and take it all away. Once people know who you are, they keep coming after you to beat you. There’s no peace. All I wanted to do was craft, but I couldn’t. Not without people… dragons… coming to take it away.” 

Neville often found himself wondering about Rose’s world. Most often it was “Why does she have to go back?”, but at that moment, he just felt sorry for her. He had a hard enough time coping with the extra attention from the tournament, but he couldn’t imagine being world-famous. 

“Maybe you could just stay here,” he blurted. 

He blushed and tensed, awaiting Rose’s response. 

“That didn’t come out right.” 

“I’ve thought about it. I still miss my family, but I guess I can just talk to them.” 

They stood in awkward silence for a minute. Part of him criticized himself for saying something stupid, but the rest of him reminded himself that Rose hadn’t been bothered. Even if she didn’t like him back, life was a lot less scary with her around. 

_Even the frogs and the roses will catch its disease._

“You remember that prophecy? The one Professor Trelawney said last year?” 

“I’ve thought about it every day since you were chosen.” 

“Any idea what it means?” 

Rose shook her head, but pulled out her notebook. “It doesn’t really matter.” 

“Why not?” 

“Two months before I was attacked, an Oracle told me this:” 

_Red like Roses_  
_Black as the Skies_  
_The poor child’s blood spills_  
_as her innocence dies._  


She looked up at Neville. 

“Prophecies tell you nothing. They could be warning you about the most important event in your life, and you’d never know it. They could also be warning you that it’s gonna be cold and you should remember your cloak. That one told me that I was going to be attacked, but not when, where, or how.” She closed her notebook. “I don’t know what that prophecy means, but it involves both of us, so whatever it is, we’ll face it together.” 

He smiled at her, hoping that his smile warmed her like hers did him. 

“Together.” 

She smiled at him, making every moment of the Triwizard Tournament worth it. 

“Another part of the prophecy was ‘Straight through a scar that cannot be undone’. I broke Pettigrew’s Time Turner, this device that lets you bend time and be in two places at once. I ended up in this weird mixture of times, and… and I saw Valignatiejir.” 

Neville remembered clearly the image of a dragon standing over Rose. The only time in his life he’d seen her afraid, and all he wanted to do was go back and stab the thing in the throat. 

“I’m sorry. If I could’ve been there, I’d—” 

“You were. Another you, one from a few years in the future, I think. When I lost it, you brought me back. Then we fought him together. That’s how I knew you were going to be okay, even when I was scared too.” 

Overwhelmed by joy, Neville laughed, but quickly covered his mouth. Even then, Rose didn’t stop smiling at him. 

“You could never let me down, Toad. Deep down, you’re a good person. I know you lost your parents, but—” 

“They’re not dead, they’re just empty.” 

Rose’s smile faded away. 

“What happened to them?” 

“They were tortured by a woman called Bellatrix Lestrange. She tortured them and… now they can’t do anything. They’re just there. They’re not dead… but the doctors say they might recover one day.” 

He tried to smile and convince Rose that he was alright, but she didn’t buy it. 

“You know better, don’t you?” 

“When I was a boy, I used to think they’d start talking any day. I’d always be so quiet so I’d hear them. I used to… sorry, I’ll stop.” 

“It’s fine. What was it?” 

“Sure? It’s pretty stupid.” 

“One of the worst insults in Dwarven is _mosgrim_ , which literally means ‘beardless’. It’s like saying someone’s gutless, but I didn’t know that at first. I thought there was something wrong with me, because I didn’t have a beard… so I found a bunch of grass and stuck it on my face.” 

Neville pressed his lips together to stop from laughing, but Rose started laughing anyway. 

“Really?” 

“I can still remember the look on Mr. Grund’s face when I walked into his shop like that. He was so confused, then burst out laughing. Called me ‘Grassbeard’ from that day on!” 

Neville and Rose laughed together for a long time. As afraid as he was of the maze inside the pitch, it felt amazing to laugh. Like all his troubles just faded away. 

“When I was a kid, I used to pretend to give speech lessons, so I’d be ready to help my parents learn to talk again.” 

Their laughter died down. Neville felt like he should’ve been crying, but no tears fell down his face. 

“When you’re a kid, you learn that people die. But my parents aren’t dead. They’re empty. I couldn’t understand why other kids could talk to their parents and I couldn’t. They couldn’t explain what Lestrange did. How could they? How do you explain to a child that some woman hurt his parents so badly that they’ll never notice him? Or hug him? Or talk to him? What do you do?” 

“Last year I tracked down Hufflepuff’s Cup,” Rose said out of nowhere. 

“I think you mentioned it. What for?” 

“That’s not important now. What’s important is who had it.” 

“Who?” 

“Bellatrix Lestrange. Old Voldie asked her to keep it safe, and I took it from her. I saw her in Azkaban, and I told her if he came back, ‘Her Lord’ would never forgive her.” 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“Because before that, I’d learned everything about his followers. I knew about your parents, Toad, and Ref had to stop me from snapping her neck because of it. Instead, I ruined her life, like she ruined yours. If Voldie ever comes back, he’ll find that she lost the item he entrusted to her to someone she believes to be a Muggle-born.” 

“You did that… for me?” 

“I can’t love you the way you love me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t admire you. Even last year, you held together when all of us broke down. Before that, you charged in and stabbed a basilisk in the eye. In that broken time, you stood up to me, reminded me what’s right and what’s wrong. Now, you’re holding your head high, even though you’ve struggled so much.” 

After everything he’d been through, Rose’s words made him feel strong one more time. What was better was that he knew he didn’t need them. Thanks to her, he had his own strength. 

“Would it be weird if I hugged you?” he asked. 

Rose spread her arms wide. “I never say ‘no’ to a hug.” 

For a few minutes, they stood there together, their arms around one another. It was a lot easier to hug her when she wasn’t a foot shorter than he was. In those moments, Neville knew he would be okay. No matter what happened, he had the strength to face it all. 

“Time to go,” Rose said and withdrew her arms. 

Neville nodded to her and stepped away. 

“Before I go, take this.” Rose pulled a small black gem out of her basket. “In the event something goes wrong, this will return you to Gryffindor Tower. Don’t use it unless you end up outside the grounds.” 

Neville took the gem and put it in his belt. 

“Good luck.” 

She vanished from sight, leaving rose petals in her wake. 

He returned to the changing rooms, where the other three sat waiting. 

“Right on time,” Cedric said. “Good luck out there.” 

“You too,” Neville said. “All of you, good luck.” 

Viktor grinned and shook his hand. Although with the force behind it, he might’ve been trying to pull off Neville’s arm. 

Fleur gave him little more than a suspicious glare. 

“And now, it’s time for our champions!” Bagman called from outside. 

Together, they walked out of the room and into the pitch. A roar of applause greeted them as the crowd rose to its feet. Neville smiled and waved along with the other three. He was sure they were all as focused as he was, but it didn’t hurt to enjoy the moment. 

The Triwizard Cup stood in the middle of the Pitch. It shone blue light in an aura around it, but none of them saw a maze, just an empty pitch. What they did see was Professor Dumbledore next to a red button that was bigger than Dumbledore himself. As they walked to a clearly marked boundary, he pushed the button, and the whole pitch began to shake. 

Solid black blocks erupted from the ground and flew into the air. One by one, the blocks collided with one another, then began to shift around. They encircled the trophy, blocking it from view. Entire groups of blocks shifted at once as more joined to form a larger block. The way the blocks moved with one another reminded Neville of something. Neville couldn’t tell exactly how big they were, but he guessed they were exactly five feet by five feet by five feet, since that was how everything seemed to break down in Rose’s world. 

The large block rose into the air as more blocks joined it. As they did, Neville realized why they seemed familiar. He’d seen the same motion hundreds of times since his first year at Hogwarts. Staring at a peculiar girl playing with a toy her best friend had gotten her for Christmas. 

It was a puzzle box. The final task, the grand maze, was a giant puzzle box. 


	27. Horror of the Clockwork Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the third task happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns the Triwizard Tournament, and I own this third task.

“Welcome everyone, to the final task of this year’s Triwizard Tournament!” Fudge announced. 

The audience let out a roar of applause. The sound drowned out every other noise in the Quidditch Pitch. 

“As you saw, a maze now surrounds the Triwizard Cup,” he continued. “As we speak, the maze is filling with untold dangers that lie between our four champions and the grand prize!” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was doing a surprisingly good job of hiding her excitement. Her eyes were wide, but she showed no other sign that she knew what was inside that maze. 

“The champions will enter the maze in order based on their current standing. That means Mr. Krum will enter, followed by Mr. Diggory. Ms. Delacour will enter next, then finally Mr. Longbottom!” 

Hermione looked at each champion in turn. The confidence with which they entered the pitch never faltered, and each one stood ready to enter the maze. 

“Before we begin the task, I want to take a moment and thank everyone who has given the past year of their lives to this monumental event.” He glanced down at a piece of parchment. “First, of course, Mr. Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department of Games and Sports, and Mr. Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.” 

There was a polite applause as both men stood up and received recognition. This was repeated after the heads of each school were recognized, and various Ministry staff and personnel that Hermione didn’t know. 

“Last, but not least,” Fudge said, taking out and reading from an index card, “the team of people who have worked tirelessly to construct the maze and everything within it. These people, who wish to remain anonymous, have spent nearly every waking moment putting not only this task together, but the previous two as well. It is thanks to their hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that we have had such a wonderful and successful tournament!” 

Hermione smiled and cheered, knowing full well that the “anonymous team” was sitting next to her. 

“Oz would be proud,” she whispered to Rose. 

Rose beamed at her, then turned her attention back to the maze. 

“One last thing before we begin,” Fudge announced. “Each contestant will be given a bracelet to track them through the maze. This allows us all to watch them progress and enjoy the excitement!” 

Professor Dumbledore fitted bracelets to each champions’ wrist. As he did, Neville noticed that each bracelet had four charms on it. Each charm glowed with a faint light. 

“What are the charms for?” Neville asked as Dumbledore fitted his bracelet. 

“If one of your companions fall unconscious, one of the lights will go out,” Dumbledore told him. 

When he finished, Dumbledore held them at the start of the maze. On Fudge’s word, one of the blocks moved and revealed an entrance inside. 

Neville waited behind Cedric and Fleur and watched Viktor run into the maze. A few seconds later, the maze began to change. 

Sections of the maze whirled around exactly like the cube Hermione had given Rose. When it stopped, the entrance had resealed itself. The maze didn’t shift as much in the two minutes between Viktor running in and Cedric running in. 

After the two minutes had passed, the entrance reopened and Cedric ran inside. Once again, the maze shifted around, slowing down after six seconds. Shortly after Cedric ran inside, images appeared of Viktor and Cedric inside the maze. Each one took up a corner of the giant cube. 

Neville watched them for seven minutes until the entrance opened and Fleur ran inside. After shifting around, it settled in and an image of Fleur joined the others. 

He kept his focus off the images, despite the temptation to look whenever the crowd cheered. Instead, he kept himself occupied counting down the seconds until he’d be let in. 

“Twelve! Eleven! Ten!” someone that sounded like Rose shouted. More voices joined hers as she counted down. 

“Five! Four!” Most of the crowd had joined in by then. “Three! Two! One!” 

The entrance block slid open, and Neville darted inside. 

Inside the maze, the walls and ceiling glowed deep violet, projecting an eerie light. He glanced back and saw the walls slide behind him, cutting off his view of the entrance. 

Neville turned back and ran deeper into the maze, picking directions at random until he decided he was far enough inside. He drew the Sword of Gryffindor and swung it at a wall. It bounced off with the clang of metal hitting metal. 

“Metal, changes at random, and purple for some reason,” Neville muttered. 

He walked slowly, keeping an eye out for traps. A few minutes later, he stumbled upon something else in the maze. 

Neville held his sword at the ready when he heard something clicking up ahead. For a moment, it sounded like a bird chirping, but too mechanical. 

He looked towards the source and saw a metal beetle. It had a white, segmented body and stared at Neville though lifeless eyes while it clung to the ceiling. 

It fired a dart at him, which he quickly deflected with his sword. He slammed the sword at it, hoping to knock it off the ceiling. Oddly enough, it seemed to fall back onto the ceiling. After avoiding another dart, Neville caught it again with the sword, this time taking off its head. 

The broken pieces fell to the floor, and he picked through the remains, in case something turned out to be useful. 

Neville looked up from the broken remains of the mechanical bug and saw corridors shifting up ahead. He moved quicker, stopping to avoid an actively changing area. His efforts were rendered futile when the section he was in shifted. 

When the area stopped, Neville noticed that the walls were starting to change color to blue. 

“Either that happens when one of those dies, or it changes as I get closer to the middle.” 

Neville ran into the blue section, noting that the color of the walls was definitely more blue than purple. 

He saw two more spiders crawling on the ceiling, and held his sword at the ready. He approached them with caution, then felt his foot fall an inch farther than he’d expected. 

Instinct kicked in and Neville hit the floor as a blast of fire scorched the air above him. He looked up and saw the spiders taking aim at him. 

Neville rolled aside to dodge a pair of darts that flew through the still hot air. He climbed to his feet and sliced one in half with a single motion. The other dropped on him, but he sidestepped it and caught it with his sword. 

Neville glanced at the remnants of the two spiders, then heard clicking from further into the maze. He moved quickly, hoping the others were having an easier time than he was. 

* * *

Hermione watched the champions progress through the maze on a similar “screen” to what Rose used for the second task. 

“I give up. What are those?” 

“Clockwork horrors,” Rose replied, wearing the biggest grin Hermione had ever seen. 

“I thought no one could make those,” Luna said. 

“Uncle Oz found a way.” 

“Why did he show you?” Hermione asked. “I thought he’d be more responsible than that.” 

Rose stuck out her tongue at Hermione while Luna smiled. 

“Those are just the little ones,” Luna said. “The big ones are much more exciting.” 

Hermione sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. 

“Rose, what did I tell you about trying to kill them?” 

“To try harder?” 

Hermione blinked then turned back to the maze. 

* * *

Fleur walked into a cavern and found six mechanical spiders, accompanied by a larger gold one. Instead of a green gem, the gold one bore a blue gem upon its head, and held a turret on its back. 

When it saw her, it turned and fired a bolt of lightning from the turret at her. 

Fleur screamed as electricity surged through her, then retreated as fast as she could. Her wand drawn, she destroyed one of the smaller bugs as they followed her back into the maze. 

She heard a familiar clinking sound behind her, and turned to find that three of the bugs were closing in on her. 

Darts flew through the air, and she cursed as a few found their marks. She destroyed two of the bugs, but more replaced them. 

They surrounded her, cutting off any chance for another retreat. 

Just when she thought they had her, she heard a crash and looked behind her. 

Neville’s sword flew into one of the bugs. He swung his rope around, throwing the first into two more. 

Fleur hurled the broken remains in a flurry at the others, buffeting them to scrap. 

“Zhank you,” she said. 

“Are there more?” 

“A beeg gold one is up ahead,” Fleur told him. 

“No problem,” Neville replied, holding the sword up. “Can you cover me?” 

“I can try, but eet uses lightning instead of darts.” 

“Thanks for the warning.” 

Neville and Fleur ran into the cavern. Fleur hung back and took care of the small bugs while Neville took care of the big one. 

“Clear,” Neville said after he’d finished. 

“Vhat?” 

“Are there any more bugs?” 

“Vhat does it look like?” 

Realizing Fleur wasn’t going to tell him, he surveyed the area himself. 

“Looks like we’re getting closer to the yellow zone,” Neville said, looking through another exit. “We’re probably going to find more of those gold bugs.” 

“Yellow zone?” 

“It’s the colors of the rainbow,” Neville said. “Probably ends on red.” 

Fleur and Neville continued through the maze. As Neville had predicted, they ran into more of the gold bugs, but encountered a new one near the orange section. 

It was hard to discern its actual color, as it reflected the orange-yellow light of the maze. It was more intricate than the others, and the gem on its head was distinctly gold. 

“Any ideas?” Fleur asked as they hid behind a corner. 

“Heat the blade,” Neville said. “They’re durable, but the sword can cut clean through metal when it’s hot.” 

“Vhat do I do?” 

Neville looked at the hilt of his sword. A dial was attached to it, which he spun until a purple container faced the blade. He pressed the dial and it sent purple fluid flowing over the blade. 

“Hit it with a fire spell,” Neville said, holding up the sword. “Any spell is fine.” 

Fleur hit the sword with a blast of flame, wreathing the sword in fire. 

Neville grinned. “Firecracker, eat your heart out.” 

He ran in, knocking bugs away as he ran towards the new one. He cleaved through one of the three gold bugs like they were made of butter. 

The silver one fired a bolt of lightning at him, which he deflected with a wave of his sword. A gold one turned on him, but Fleur took it out with another fire spell. 

The silver bug snapped at him with the blade on its head, but he knocked it aside and took out the turret on top of it. Another few hits and it went down. 

He turned back and saw Fleur take out the last of the bugs. 

“Clear,” he called. 

“Clear,” she replied, having acclimated to his habits. 

Neville held up his wrist and checked his bracelet. 

“Four lights,” he said. “Cedric and Viktor are still up.” 

“Zhen ve should keep moving!” 

They ran into the orange zone, encountering more of the silver bugs. 

Neville began to notice that Fleur’s hits were landing a little close. He idly wondered how competitive she was when a burst of fire nearly hit him. 

As the maze turned red, the gaps between the swarms of bugs disappeared, and Neville and Fleur found themselves fighting for every step. Neville also noticed that the changes to the maze were less drastic. He _also_ noticed that gravity didn’t always apply, as he found out when the section of the maze on which he stood suddenly rotated. 

“Vhat happened?” Fleur asked as she fought back more bugs. 

“I’m fine,” Neville said, clearing the surrounding bugs. He got an idea and lept to Fleur’s side. 

Sure enough, he _fell_ onto the bugs. 

“Gravity’s whatever direction we want it to be!” he exclaimed as he destroyed a silver bug. 

“Good to know,” Fleur called back. 

Neville glanced ahead and saw a blue light from around the corner. 

“We’re almost there!” 

He heard a crash from up ahead. 

“So are zhey!” 

Fleur lept onto the wall, stumbling as she adjusted to the new orientation. She shielded herself as bugs fell on her, but didn’t stop running until she rounded the corner. 

Neville hopped onto a wall and sliced through the bugs as they fell on him. He took more hits as he rushed to catch up with Fleur. 

He rounded the corner and found a large cavern, but the significant feature stood in the center of it. 

A large, black bug stood in the middle of the cavern. This one resembled a beetle much more than the others. Ridges lined its back, topped by a forked turret, and the gem on its head was blood-red. 

Most importantly, the blue glow of the trophy came from inside King Bug. 

Across the cavern, Viktor and Cedric fought another swarm of bugs. They kept stealing glances at King Bug, but remained overwhelmed by the onslaught of smaller bugs. Neville’s own swarm held him at the entrance. He watched as Fleur ran towards King Bug. 

The tip of King Bug’s turret began to glow. 

_So long as it’s just lightning, we’ll be fine._

A green ray lanced out at Fleur, and Neville’s instincts kicked in, causing him to abandon the swarm. He pressed the dial on the sword, then flung it across the cavern. Medallyne oil coated the sword as it reached the other side of the cavern. By the time it dug into the wall, Neville was already running. He dove and knocked Fleur out of the way of the ray. The vine pulled them both to safety, missing the beam by millimeters. 

“Get off!” Fleur shouted when they crashed into the ground. 

She shoved him aside and climbed to her feet. Fleur fired spells at King Bug, but none of them phased it. 

It turned back towards them, and when Neville looked, he realized what the beam did. 

The chunk of the wall where the beam hit had been turned to dust. 

“ _Disintegrate?_ ” Neville exclaimed. “It’s firing _disintegrate_ at us! They are actually trying to kill us this time!” 

Somewhere far off in the distance, Neville was certain he could hear Rose cackling madly. 

Neville glanced back at Fleur and saw her hit the floor to avoid another _disintegrate_. Bugs poured into the chamber on both sides, and Neville ran to contain the bugs on their side. 

_We need a plan_ , Neville thought as he cut through them. 

Across the cavern, Cedric ran inside, hurling bugs outside to clear himself a path. Viktor followed close behind, blasting any bug that came near him. When they were both through, Viktor conjured a cobblestone wall to seal off that entrance to the cavern. 

Neville saw King Bug taking aim at Viktor, and ran back in to draw aggro. He was a few feet from King Bug when he saw a red flash out of the corner of his eye. He tumbled to the ground to avoid it, then again when King Bug attacked him. 

“Fleur!” Neville shouted. “What are you doing?!” 

“Vinning!” 

Neville lept away from another attack from King Bug, nearly running into Cedric in the process. 

“Any ideas?” Cedric asked. 

“Hit it til it breaks?” Neville offered as Viktor threw a curse at King Bug. 

King Bug shrugged off the curse as more bugs swarmed the room from the other side. 

“Seal the exit!” Neville called to Cedric as he ran at the swarming bugs. 

Neville began slicing through them with a Medallyne-enhanced sword, only turning his focus back to King Bug when he heard Fleur scream. 

She dragged herself into the corner. A trail of blood led from her leg to King Bug’s saw. She climbed to her feet as Cedric closed the other exit, trapping them all inside with King Bug. 

Viktor waved his wand and conjured a flurry of daggers. With another wave, they soared at King Bug, but none of them left a scratch on its armor. 

King Bug fired at Fleur, who dropped prone again to avoid the beam. 

Cedric ran back to Neville as he finished off the last of the smaller bugs. 

“Hitting it isn’t working,” Cedric said as Viktor tried dropping rocks on it. 

King Bug turned from a barely standing Fleur to a more threatening Viktor. It fired another _disintegrate_ when Neville had an idea. 

“Sound!” he exclaimed. “Hit it with sound!” 

“Why?” Cedric asked. 

“Nothing ever thinks to be immune to sonic energy!” 

Cedric shrugged and aimed his wand at King Bug. 

A low, deafening roar filled the cavern as a pillar of sound erupted from Cedric’s wand. It hit King Bug dead on and the creature emitted a shrill scream. Chunks of metal fell from King Bug as the sound died down. 

Viktor looked at Cedric, then conjured his own spell. A large, black rock appeared in front of him, covered in fire. He hurled it at King Bug, and it exploded on contact. When the smoke cleared, King Bug had a few new dents. 

Neville ran in, hoping to finish it off, but instead it turned and fired past him. Neville dodged, thinking himself the target, but realized its goal when he looked behind him. 

Bugs flooded the room from the hole King Bug made, each one firing on them as they marched inside the cavern. 

Fleur fired another stunner at Neville while his focus was on the bugs, but he deflected it with the sword. 

Cedric took aim at King Bug for another shot. 

“Duck!” 

He swiveled right and fired a stunner at Neville. Neville tumbled under it, and it hit Fleur before she could react. 

Viktor hurled another meteor at King Bug, but to Neville’s dismay, it didn’t go down. Neville ran in to draw aggro, while Cedric resealed the exit, slowed down by the hits he took from the bugs. 

As Viktor prepared for another assault on King Bug, it fired a _disintegrate_ at the wall behind him. 

Cedric ran across the cavern to cover the bugs coming out of the wall as Viktor sealed it. 

Despite Neville’s efforts to take down King Bug, he knew the sword had rejected the oil and returned to its original composition. His attacks no longer phased King Bug, who turned its attention, and turret, to Fleur. 

Neville slammed the dial, using shot two of three of Medallyne oil, then flung the sword at the wall and dove for Fleur. He reached her as the line went taught, but realized he’d fallen into a trap. 

King Bug’s shot cut through the vine and sent Neville and Fleur tumbling to the floor. He tried to grab the sword, but King Bug kept him pinned down. 

“Use the wall!” Cedric shouted as he and Viktor cleaned up the bugs. “You can–” 

“I know!” Neville shouted, grabbing Fleur. He left the sword behind and ran on the wall, getting Fleur out of danger. 

Viktor prepared another meteor, but King Bug fired on him while the rock was still half-formed. 

“Krum!” Cedric shouted. 

Helpless to stop it, Neville watched as Cedric dove at Viktor, knocking him out of the way, but taking the _disintegrate_ head on. 

“No!” Neville shouted. 

His heart stopped. Fleur was unconscious, but a hit from _disintegrate_ … 

Cedric fell to the floor, unconscious, but alive. 

_He’s not dust? How’d he make his save? We can’t…_

Neville set Fleur down in the opposite corner as King Bug began to advance on Viktor. When he did, he caught a glimpse of the bracelet. Two lights remained, but another thought struck him. 

_You planned for this, didn’t you?_

He turned his attention back to King Bug and Viktor. Viktor aimed his wand for another attack, but King Bug caught him in the arm. He dropped his wand, catching it in his off hand. 

With a quick leap, Neville was back on the same wall as King Bug. He ran towards them both. 

“Look at me, I’m unarmed!” he called to King Bug, hoping to draw its attention away from Viktor and an unconscious Cedric. 

He succeeded. 

King Bug hit him with the flat of its blade as he neared it, and Neville had to stumble to stay on his feet. He lept back to recover, keeping King Bug in his line of sight. It kept its sights and turret trained on Neville. 

Neville held out his hand to summon the Sword of Gryffindor, but King Bug lashed out when he did. It lept forward on its mechanical legs and dug its saw into his side. He jumped back and fell to his knees, pressing one hand on his gaping flesh wound. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he panted. “I’ve had worse than this!” 

King Bug turned away from Neville, no longer finding him a threat. 

Viktor hurled another meteor at King Bug. The explosion on impact sent Neville flying towards the far wall. He gasped when he hit the ground, his own blood appearing black in the red light. 

He stared up at King Bug as it advanced on Viktor. His vision was going fuzzy, made worse by the light. 

_Focus, Toad! Just get the sword, and you can win this!_

“Why bother?” a familiar voice said. 

He reached out his hand, ignoring the additional person inside the cavern smirking at him. 

“You can’t summon it from here,” Evil Neville said. “You’re too far away.” 

_When your goal’s in sight, run towards it until you collapse from exhaustion, then crawl the rest of the way._

“Exhaustion’s one word for it,” he muttered. With his outstretched hand, Neville dragged himself closer to the sword. 

“Viktor won’t hold it for long. What are you going to do then?” 

Another explosion rocked the cavern, but King Bug still marched closer to Viktor. Another moment later, and another few centimeters for Neville, Viktor took a hit from the saw. He knocked it away with his bare hand, but King Bug swung back and knocked Viktor to the ground. 

“Time’s up.” 

Neville watched as King Bug turned around slowly to face him. 

* * *

“And Krum goes down!” Bagman called. “It’s not looking good for our champions! Longbottom’s the only one still standing… metaphorically, of course!” 

Hermione squeezed Ron’s hand. 

_Not again. Please, not again._

She could feel Ron’s blood flowing through her fingers, smell it on her clothes. Her head began to throb. 

“It’ll be alright,” Ron whispered. “He’s not me.” 

Hermione returned to reality and saw Ron looking at her with concern. 

“Thank you.” 

She glanced at Rose and saw her squeezing Luna’s hand. Looking closer, she saw Luna squeezing Rose’s hand just as hard. 

“It might just be Longbottom, but he’s not going down without a fight!” Bagman called. 

* * *

Neville had only managed to drag himself another foot by the time King Bug caught up to him. It didn’t fire on him; it was just toying with him. 

“Just like every other time when things go wrong,” Evil Neville said. “Just give up like you always do. Wait for someone else to come and save you.” 

“There isn’t anyone,” Neville said. “No one’s going to save me this time. That’s why I’ve got to save myself.” 

He rolled aside, leaving a trail of blood from King Bug’s blade. Neville tried jumping to his feet, but pain erupted from his wound, and he fell back to his knees. 

King Bug loomed over him and readied its blade. 

Neville closed his eyes and held out his hand. 

_Please be close enough!_

The blade descended on him as he felt a familiar hilt enter his grasp. 

In one motion, Neville slammed his thumb on the dial, snapped his eyes open, and swung the sword over his head. 

CLANG! 

The saw fell to the floor beside Neville, and he rolled aside. 

_One hit point left,_ he told himself. _Shadow once killed an entire hit squad with only one hit point left. One’s plenty._

King Bug swung its stump at him, but he rolled under it, screaming in pain when he did. He sliced the sword through King Bug, taking off one of its legs. It stumbled back, but Neville stayed on it. In one motion, he forced himself to his feet and cut off the turret from King Bug. 

The creature let out a cry of pain, mirroring Neville’s own screams. He fell back to his knees, but didn’t stop pressing ahead. 

“I survived,” Neville breathed. 

He drove the sword into King Bug. 

“I lived.” 

With a loud grunt, Neville forced the sword through King Bug’s body. 

“And I win.” 

King Bug stood motionless in the cavern, but after a few seconds, it began to shake. Pieces fell off its body, one by one, until the gem on its head fell. Once it hit the ground, the gem shattered. 

The cup sat among the wreckage, casting a bright blue light on the red of the maze. The glow got brighter, and Neville saw his wounds heal. He reached down and picked up the cup. When he did, blocks shifted around and formed a pathway out of the maze. He and his recovered companions walked out into an applauding crowd. 


	28. Rise from the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone dies and someone lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns Lord Voldemort.

Cheers filled the Great Hall, which had once again grown to accommodate the extra people. Hermione idly wondered where she would be sleeping, but dismissed it, figuring it’d be somewhere in Hogsmeade. She didn’t have to worry about it yet. 

After a great deal of effort, she and her friends had forced their way to Neville. They all sat at the Gryffindor table, enjoying a celebratory feast with all three schools. People crowded around him, all trying to congratulate him on his victory. Cedric and Krum had congratulated him on the field, and even Fleur begrudgingly thanked him for saving her. 

Hermione wanted to spend time with her friends, but she knew they’d be talking in Gryffindor Tower that night. None of them needed much sleep, after all. She smiled at Ron, who still sat beside her. It didn’t surprise her that Rose was conveniently missing. Hermione knew how much she hated parties after what had happened in Thars. 

“I forgot how loud it gets in here!” she shouted to Ron. 

“What?” he shouted back. 

“Never mind!” 

“What?” 

She smiled and squeezed his hand. 

After the feast, she met up with her parents, who wished her good night. 

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Aren’t I going with you?” 

“We thought you’d like to sleep in your old room,” her mum said. 

Hermione could hardly contain her excitement. 

“You mean it?” 

“This doesn’t mean you can come back…” Her mum glanced at her dad, who still didn’t say a word. “But we’re open to thinking about it. You’ve come a long way in the past few weeks.” 

Hermione lept at her mum and threw her arms around her. 

“Thank you!” 

She turned to her dad, who was considerably less enthusiastic than either she or her mum. 

“Thank you, Dad.” 

He sighed, then put his arms around her. 

“You’re welcome.” 

She grinned and waved at them as they left for Hogsmeade. When they were out of sight, she raced back towards Gryffindor Tower, eager to tell her friends the good news. 

Her pace slowed considerably when she reached the rest of the crowd of students moving through the castle. She tried to see over it to find her friends, but fortunately, one of them found her first. 

Said friend grabbed her and pulled her aside into an empty classroom. 

“I wish you’d warn me before doing that,” Hermione said. 

Rose silently took her hand, and she felt her ring grow warm. 

“What are you doing?” 

“ _Favor of the Martyr_.” 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and ran through her catalog of spells from Rose’s world. 

“Bunch of immunities, right? Non-lethal damage, stunning, charm, compulsion, dazing, exhaustion, fatigue, staggering, remains conscious at -1 to -9 hit points.” 

Rose’s lips curled into a smile of pride. 

“And?” 

“And… and attacks that specifically cause pain.” 

“Yeah.” 

Hermione didn’t speak until the glow faded from her ring. 

“Why not give me that before?” 

“Uncle Oz taught me never to give anything away. If I do, people won’t appreciate it as much.” 

Hermione let the thought sink in. While she would’ve appreciated the enchantment a year ago, she knew better than anyone how blindly Rose listened to her uncle’s advice. 

“Thank you.” 

Rose replied with a smile. It was the kind of smile that alerted Hermione to a problem. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Rose shook her head. 

“Nothing.” She motioned towards the crowd outside. “Better get back. Everyone will be waiting.” 

Hermione smiled back at her. 

“Don’t stay out too late,” she said. “I want to celebrate with all my friends. Especially my best friend on the whole plane.” She hugged Rose. “Even if she’s afraid dragons are going to burn down every party she attends. That only happened once.” 

“Once is really all it took.” 

Rose gave a halfhearted chuckle, then stayed behind while Hermione left. It pained her not to tell her friend the truth, but she knew it’d pass. Her problem wouldn’t be a problem much longer. 

“If you don’t cheer up, she’ll figure out what’s really bothering you.” 

Rose glared at Sylvia when she appeared beside her. 

“You should’ve thought about that before ruining my night.” 

She turned her anger towards the students passing by, all of whom remained oblivious to the other occupant of the room. 

“Have you made a decision?” 

“No.” 

“No, you—” 

“I’m not doing it.” 

Rose glared at Sylvia. She stared back at her with pale green eyes. They weren’t kind like Carolina’s; just cold. 

“As I’ve said before, if you want the hard way, so be it, but remember: this was your choice. What happens next is your own doing.” 

* * *

“Wake up, Harry.” 

Harry opened his eyes when he heard Ellie’s voice. His attention went to his _blindsight_ , but he didn’t detect anyone else in the room apart from Dean, Seamus, and Neville. 

Looking at the three of them, nothing seemed out of place, apart from the Sword of Gryffindor resting against Neville’s bed. Before Harry could wonder why it wasn’t in Neville’s glove, he spotted something on his nightstand beside his glasses. 

_Harry,_

_Meet me outside the kitchens._

_Ellie_

No more than three minutes later, Harry was dressed and on his way out of the common room, his mind reeling. Ellie wanted to see him? Why not wait until morning? 

_Who cares about that?_ Harry thought. _I could be with Ellie again._

He fought the urge to run through the corridors as he made his way down to the first floor. 

Ellie stood near a window. Her eyes and hair glistened under the moonlight, and her familiar smile lit up her face when he pulled off the invisibility cloak. 

“Ellie,” he whispered. 

“ _Hi._ ” She glanced out the window. “ _Follow me. It’s easier to talk outside._ ” 

They huddled together under the cloak and followed the map to an exit from the castle. 

Harry chose to remain silent, instead taking in every detail of Ellie. How her arm felt next to his, how her body would tremble ever so slightly in the cold night. Her smile wasn’t quite the same, though. It seemed restrained from the last time Harry had seen her smile. 

_Probably still upset,_ Harry thought. 

Ellie led him onto the grounds. Seeing the grounds deserted after filled with so much life sent shivers down Harry’s spine, and he involuntarily shuddered. 

He glanced over at Ellie, but to his relief, she made no indication that she’d noticed. 

“Where are we going?” he whispered. 

“ _You’ll see._ ” 

“No, Ellie, where–” 

His mind went numb the moment her lips touched his. Her delicate hands held him close to her, their frigid touch sending shivers through him in waves. Harry closed his eyes and lost himself in that moment with Ellie. When they parted, he could still feel the warmth of her breath on his face. 

They did nothing other than stare into one another’s eyes for a while after that, then Ellie led him by the hand into the Forbidden Forest. 

When they reached the edge, he pulled off the cloak and put it back into his pack. From that moment on, cracking branches, hooting owls, and people far away were the only sounds Harry heard in the forest. He stayed alert, but remained aware that Ellie held his dominant hand, making it– 

“Wait!” 

Harry pulled away from Ellie and drew his wand. 

“Ellie hates holding hands!” he hissed. “She says it’s like suffocating!” 

“ _I got over it._ ” 

“Like being trapped in a glass case where no one can hear you. Those were her exact words!” 

“ _Harry, you’re–_ ” 

“Rose says Shadow’s the same way. Something about feeling helpless, but it’s not something people just get over! Sally-Anne said those kinds of things people don’t change!” 

“ _Sally-Anne isn’t always right._ ” 

“Near enough. Who are you?!” 

Ellie stared at him for a moment, then went limp and fell to the ground like a toy someone had switched off. 

Harry ran over to her, but he never made it that far. 

A red flash lit up the forest, then everything went black. 

* * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings even before they were open. He sensed the presence of one other person, who was standing right next to him. Harry opened his eyes, went for his wand… and found that his hands were bound. 

“Awake, I see,” his companion said as he tightened the ropes that bound Harry to something hard and cold. “It’s just as well.” 

Harry looked out into the night and saw a man he recognized. 

It was Crouch’s son. He was ragged and didn’t look like he’d slept in days, but it was him. 

Harry took a moment to take in the rest of his surroundings, noting as he did that his pack was gone. They were in a graveyard, that was for sure. Graves littered the ground, casting shadows from the only source of light in the area. That light was a fire lighting a cauldron that sat in the middle of the graveyard. Junior walked over to it once he’d secured Harry’s ropes. 

“What’s going on?!” Harry demanded. “Where’s Ellie?!” 

Junior ignored him, concentrating all his attention on the cauldron. With Junior standing next to it, he realized it was bigger than any he’d seen. It was something Harry himself would’ve likely fit inside. 

As Harry concentrated, he felt two other objects moving around the graveyard. One was long, like a snake of some kind. It wasn’t far too his left, maybe five feet and closing. Harry glanced over and saw it sneaking through the grass, watching the cauldron. No, not the cauldron, Junior. It looked like Snape did when he loomed over them during Potions Class. 

The other was a small object, which he spotted near the cauldron. It wriggled with all its might, as if trying to break free. 

“ _I grow impatient, Crouch,_ ” a voice hissed. 

Harry’s scar suddenly burned as if someone were branding his forehead. Pain pulsated through his head, forcing him to shut his eyes. 

“It’s almost ready, My Lord,” Junior replied. 

“What’s the matter, Tommy?” Harry shouted, imitating Rose’s arrogance as best he could. “Don’t trust your lackeys?” 

Junior turned as if he intended to storm Harry, but the thing in the bundle of cloth stopped him. 

“ _Ignore him!_ ” 

Harry opened his mouth to taunt them again, but the snake rose up and glared at him, stopping him before he could. When it looked at him, he felt his false bravado stripped away, leaving only his fear. Deep down, Harry was afraid of what lay in that bundle. 

He knew it was Voldemort. 

Junior unwrapped the bundle, revealing the most hideous thing Harry had ever seen. It looked like a naked mole rat had merged with a human baby, then someone turned it a darker shade of crimson than Rose’s hair. All except its face; that looked like a snake, but with blood-red eyes. 

He lowered the thing into the cauldron until it disappeared from sight. For a moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to hear it cry out as it drowned, but the water remained calm, bubbling as it always had been. There were no signs that the thing struggled underneath the surface. 

Junior removed his hands from the cauldron, then raised his wand, pointing it at Harry’s feet. 

“ _Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!_ ” 

Cracks formed in the ground near Harry’s feet as the snake slithered away. Dust rose out of the grave and floated towards the cauldron, following Junior’s wand until it fell in. The moment the dust touched the surface, the potion bubbled angrily, as if trying to escape and tear Junior apart. 

Junior closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He drew a dagger from his cloak and held his arm over the cauldron. 

“ _Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master._ ” 

Harry watched in horror as Junior drove the blade through his arm, taking it clean off. Junior grit his teeth to stop from crying out as his left arm fell into the cauldron. 

Once again, the cauldron reacted. It changed from the deep blue that the dust had turned it to a bright red, casting a ruby light over the graveyard. 

Junior wrapped his cloak around the bloody stump of what remained of his left arm, then walked over to Harry. 

_What next?_ Harry wondered. _What’s he going to take from me?_

“ _Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe._ ” 

Harry tried to fight back, tried to escape the ropes, but he was bound too tightly to get away. All he could do was struggle as Junior turned the knife on him. 

Junior sliced through Harry’s right arm, enough to open it, but not enough to do anything permanent. Then he flipped the blade over and held it with his left arm, drawing a vial from his cloak with his good hand. He held it to the open wound, collecting some of the blood that oozed out of it before returning to the cauldron. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and willed Rose to hear his thoughts. 

_You’ve got to stop him! Before it’s too late!_

Warm blood trickled down his arm as Junior tipped the vial into the cauldron. 

_Stop him!_

At first, it looked as if nothing had happened. Unlike the first two additions, Harry’s blood didn’t do anything to it apart from send a few more sparks in every direction. 

Then a burst of steam filled the air, hissing and illuminating the graveyard with such intensity that Harry couldn’t see or hear anything else. 

He could still sense the snake and Junior, but another person joined them from the cauldron. Harry could see a figure outlined in the smoke and prayed for a moment that it would just keel over dead. 

But it didn’t. _He_ didn’t. 

With a word from his master, Junior picked up the cloth from the ground and draped it over his master’s head. 

After all their efforts, they’d failed. Despite his dreams, despite Rose identifying Junior, despite them interrogating Crouch, they’d failed. 

He stood there, skin white as chalk, even worse than Rose’s, and a snake-like face that had just some slits for its nose. 

It was him. 

Lord Voldemort had risen from the dead. 

Harry struggled against his bonds, trying to escape before Voldemort could kill him. He knew it was coming. Harry had been dreading the moment that Voldemort returned for four years. 

Instead, Voldemort seemed far more interested in his own body than in Harry’s. Voldemort looked it up and down, as if checking to see that everything was there. 

He reached into his pocket and produced a wand. He smiled at it, as if seeing an old friend for the first time in years. With a wave, he sent Junior crashing into the ground beside Harry. 

“Good to have you back, My Lord,” Junior said, climbing to his feet. 

Voldemort glided over to them, towering over Junior as he climbed to his feet. 

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Voldemort said in a voice that could freeze fire. “How wonderful it is to have my body back.” He turned to Junior. “Give me your arm, Crouch.” 

“Thank you, My Lord.” Crouch moved his left arm towards Voldemort. 

“Your _other_ arm.” 

“My apologies.” 

Crouch held out his arm for Voldemort as the latter rolled up the former’s sleeve. 

Harry saw a tattoo on his arm of a snake winding around a skull. When Voldemort pressed his wand to it, the snake began to move, and the mark turned black. 

“Let us see how many of them will heed their master’s call,” Voldemort said. “Not all of them are as loyal as you, Crouch.” 

“Thank you, My Lord.” 

Voldemort waved his wand and hurled Crouch into another headstone. 

“Although if you were half as competent, perhaps we wouldn’t have needed a Plan B!” 

For the first time that night, Harry saw fear in Junior’s eyes. For a second, Harry felt bad for him, but the sympathy was soon replaced by fear. 

_Never show how scared you are. Do what I do. Just keep talking the more you get scared._

“You just can’t find good help these days,” Harry said. 

Voldemort turned slowly in place to face Harry. It wasn’t like a normal person moving slowly to face him, but as if Voldemort were suspended above the air and turned in place. For a moment, he stared at Harry, as if not sure at what he was looking. 

“Do you know where you stand, Harry Potter?” he asked. 

“No, I wasn’t awake for that part,” Harry said, the words escaping his mouth before he had time to think about them. 

“My father is there. He was a worthless Muggle, much like your mother.” 

Harry wished the ropes hadn’t restrained him so he could put his hands on Voldemort’s throat. 

<Don’t get angry. You’re doing great so far, Skyeyes. Just keep him talking. I returned Ellie to her room; she’s safe.>

Harry smirked at Voldemort, daring him to ask why. 

“My mother died to keep me alive and kill you,” Harry shot back. “What’s yours done lately?” 

“My father was the conduit through which I could return,” Voldemort replied coolly. “It matters not. For my true family has arrived.” 

Harry sensed movement all around him. Dozens of people moved out of the shadows, all wearing masks and cloaks. They approached Voldemort slowly, as if every one of them were scared. Harry figured they had every right to be. He’d already seen how Voldemort treated his “family”. 

Then, one of the Death Eaters dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort. 

“Master,” he said, kissing Voldemort’s robes. 

Each one followed suit, one by one, until they had all finished paying their respects to their risen master. They formed a circle around him, even including Junior, who still held his wounded arm. 

“Welcome, all of you,” Voldemort said. “My wonderful Death Eaters. It is good to see all of you again. Loyal to the end… or so I once believed.” 

One by one, Voldemort addressed them. One by one, he brought them to their knees with the Cruciatus Curse, but stopped when he reached Crouch. 

“But you, Crouch, you are loyal to me. As the Lestranges locked away in Azkaban, I shall reward you.” 

He waved his wand and a silvery forearm appeared in the air. It turned into liquid and formed around the stump that was Crouch’s left arm. 

“Thank you, My Lord. You are most kind.” 

Crouch bowed low as Voldemort moved to the next Death Eater. 

“Even you, Lucius. I hear you’ve worked your way up the ranks of the Ministry, doing my bidding from the shadows. Even organizing an attack on the World Cup in my name. In all that time, you never once went looking for me.” 

“My Lord, I never stopped believing you would return,” came the voice of Lucius Malfoy. “I merely sought to ensure that the world would be a suitable place for your return.” 

Voldemort glared at him, once again assessing the words he’d heard. 

“I expect better from you in the future.” 

“Of course, My Lord. You are most merciful.” 

Voldemort moved on to the next Death Eaters, passing by some without speaking, torturing others. Harry took the time to memorize the names he’d said. Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, someone called Avery. It was a good list of people not to trust. Harry made a special note that Malfoy was the one that organized the attack on the World Cup. 

Before he could get angry about it, Voldemort moved on to someone else. 

“Macnair, Crouch tells me you were sacked from the Ministry of Magic recently. How… unfortunate.” 

“Mudblood took my job, My Lord,” Macnair replied. “I’ve been taking it out tenfold on their kind, I promise you.” 

“So I’ve heard. Leave no stone unturned, my loyal follower. You will have your justice.” 

“Thank you, My Lord.” 

Voldemort moved to a gap in the circle, making Harry suspect that this was a usual formation of theirs. 

“I’m disappointed to see that we have a few missing. Three were killed in my service, one coward, and one traitor.” 

_That must be Karkaroff and Snape,_ Harry thought, thanking Rose for giving him a list of potentially dangerous people. 

Voldemort launched into a prepared speech about his downfall and return. He’d floated as a spirit, tricking Quirrell into allowing him to possess Quirrell’s body. 

“But unfortunately, my efforts to return by way of the Philosopher’s Stone were thwarted… by that girl.” 

The Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, but Harry had to stop himself from laughing. 

“When she turned my former vessel to stone, I thought I’d never return. It was… as you might say, my darkest hour. When my loyal follower Wormtail failed to escape from Hogwarts… once again, a result of _her_ interference… I thought there would be no one else. But then Crouch here was able to escape his father’s prison. He found me, bringing with him both his father and a Ministry worker named Bertha Jorkins. Through them, I was able to–” 

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” 

All eyes turned to the gap in the circle that was now occupied by a girl in a red cloak. 

“ _You_ ,” Voldemort hissed. 

“ _Me_ ,” Rose hissed back. “Salutations. You must be Voldemort.” 

The Death Eaters backed away from her, many not knowing who she was or what she was doing, but certainly not making Voldemort any happier. 

“What luck that you would be here to witness my return,” Voldemort said. “You’ve caused my servants quite some trouble, as I recall.” 

“They haven’t been making my friends’ lives any easier,” Rose said, glancing over at Harry. “Although, thanks for giving me all their names. It saved me the trouble of having to beat them senseless and find out who they were.” She tilted her head. “Although, now that I say it out loud, that sounds like a lot of fun. I think I might do that anyway.” 

“What is your name, little girl?” Voldemort asked, although he must’ve known the answer. 

“Rose Peta-Lorrum.” She curtsied. 

“Goodbye, Rose Peta-Lorrum.” 

Voldemort raised his wand and fired an emerald green bolt at her. 

Rose appeared next to Harry and fried the ropes that bound him. 

“Took you long enough,” Harry said. 

Where he expected to see confidence, he saw uncertainty on Rose’s face. 

“You can take him, right?” 

“Sure. Still got the recall gem?” 

“You said to leave it in my pocket in case of emergencies.” 

“Good. Crush it to get home, and don’t forget to take me with you.” 

“What?” 

Another bolt flew through the air. Rose smiled at Harry one last time before the bolt hit her. 

Rose’s body flashed green as the light covered her, then she fell to the ground. 

Harry looked at Voldemort as he gave a smile that made Harry’s skin crawl. He looked back to Rose, but she didn’t move. Some sort of mud bubbled near her feet, but otherwise, she lay motionless. 

Harry took another look at Voldemort, saw him raising his wand, then grabbed Rose’s body and crushed the gem. 

* * *

Hermione often looked back on the moment before she was attacked at the World Cup. She remembered how calm everything felt, how happy and safe she’d felt. It’d been as if the world were no longer a dark place, and she’d known that Rose had her back. 

Then she had been attacked, and everything had changed. The world had grown dark, and the sun refused to rise. She’d slowly returned to normal, but there was still a nagging feeling in her mind that nothing would ever be the same. 

That night, she was sitting in the common room with Ron, playing a game of chess. She’d noticed Harry sneaking out less than an hour ago, but Rose had assured her it was no problem. Something about getting Harry and Ellie back together for a happily ever after, so Hermione had let it slide. Even if the way Rose had been acting seemed odd. 

Then Harry returned to the common room. 

He landed with a thud in front of the fireplace, startling a sleeping Crookshanks from his perch on the couch. Harry’s arms were covered in bruises, and he held something in his arms, but had it angled away from Hermione preventing her from seeing it properly. 

She and Ron ran over to him, her mind running through possibilities before she’d reached him. Was it some sort of trick with the invisibility cloak? Had Rose thrown him out of danger? No one else could apparate within Hogwarts, so Rose must’ve been involved. 

Before Hermione could reach him, she had her hand in her pocket and around the _condition conch_. 

<Rose, why is Harry in the common room?>

“What happened?” Ron asked. 

“It was some sort of trap,” Harry said. “Rose tried to stop him, but he… he…” 

When Hermione didn’t hear anything else from Rose, she began to worry. Why wasn’t she responding? It left a bad feeling in her stomach, like something had just gone horribly wrong. 

It was only made worse by two things: 1. Harry had said “Rose tried to stop him”, and 2. Harry was holding Rose. 

Hermione reached over Harry and took Rose from him. She knelt down on the ground as Crookshanks watched her and Rose. 

“Rose, come on,” she said, shaking Rose awake. “Wake up!” 

A feeling of dread creeped inside her, but she dismissed it without a second thought. There was nothing to worry about; Rose was fine. 

“Rose, stop playing around. It’s me. You can wake up.” 

“What happened?” Ron asked Harry. 

“I… I followed Ellie outside, but… someone jumped us. Next thing I knew, I was in a graveyard, and…” Harry’s eyes widened in horror, but Hermione paid neither boy any mind. 

It was all just a trick of some kind. Another Rose joke that about which Hermione would yell at her later. 

“Wake up!” Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Rose’s eyes, but she didn’t react. “Wake up!” 

Her hope faded away with every passing moment. She wanted to scream at her, but she couldn’t muster the energy to shout at Rose anymore. Something about seeing Rose motionless felt so hopeless. 

“She’s not going to,” Harry said, his voice catching. “Voldemort killed her.” 

Ron looked at Harry in horror, but his words barely reached Hermione. 

“That’s not possible,” Hermione said, almost too quietly to hear. “She can’t be.” 

“Alright… erm…” Ron looked around the room, then, while still crouching on the floor, turned from Harry to Hermione. “We need to fetch Professor Dumbledore and tell him what’s happened. Hermione, we need Dripty.” 

“She’s not dead!” Hermione shouted, her voice broken by sobs. “It’s just… some sort of reaction. She can’t be dead!” 

Some part of Hermione still believed that Rose would be fine, but she had so many questions. What about _revivify_? It should’ve kicked in if Rose were to die. How could anyone, apart from Sylvia, even kill her? _Avada Kedavra_ didn’t work; _veil of undeath_ saw to that. Even if it didn’t, Rose would’ve dodged any spell thrown at her. She was untouchable. 

“Harry, go get Neville,” Ron ordered. “I’ll grab Princess.” 

“We don’t need anyone,” Hermione sobbed, as Harry ran off. “She’ll be fine.” 

“Even if she is, Madame Pomfrey should still have a look at her, right?” Ron reasoned. “And Professor Dumbledore will want to know what’s happened anyway. If… if _he’s_ back, Dumbledore will want to know.” 

Hermione looked at Ron, but for a moment, didn’t see her boyfriend. His face was stoic, as if nothing else in the world mattered but what they were doing at that moment. People could’ve been dying five feet from them, but he wouldn’t have cared. 

Somehow, it got through to her, and she nodded her agreement. 

<Dripty, fetch Professor Dumbledore. Tell him to get to Gryffindor Tower, and that it’s an emergency.>

She stared at Rose, longing for nothing more than to see her friend move. Hermione didn’t realize that Ron was trying to fetch the girls until she heard him tumble down the staircase. 

“What was that?” 

Hermione ignored his question, believing that if she dropped her focus from Rose for only a second, everything would fall apart and Rose would truly be dead. 

“Rose!” 

Neville rushed over to Hermione and Rose and knelt by her side. 

“Rose! Rose!” he shouted, realizing the truth, but, like Hermione, refusing to believe it. 

It couldn’t be real. It was just some trick of Rose’s. 

“Hermione, did you tell Dripty–” Ron started. 

“Of course I did!” she snapped. “Not that it matters! She’s fine.” 

Somewhere in Hermione’s mind, a thought occurred to her. The telepathic network to which the _condition conch_ was connected worked on primary and secondary nodes. The primaries, Rose’s earpods, had unrestricted communication and _status_. The secondaries got the communication, but they were attuned to a primary node. Without access to the primary, the secondaries were useless. 

Unfortunately, this thought never made it to the front of her mind. She remained focused on Rose, willing her to move again. Any moment she’d shout “Surprise!” or “Fooled you!”, or something else for which Hermione would punch her. 

“What’s going on?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Ron filled her in, then turned to Harry. 

“Get the map, find Professor McGonagall. Whatever’s going on, Dripty’s not responding to us, so we’ve got to do it the old-fashioned way.” 

Everything blurred together after that. Ron and Harry left, leaving Sally-Anne to watch over Hermione and Neville. They returned before long with Professor McGonagall in tow. Professor Dumbledore arrived with Fawkes shortly thereafter, then began speaking to them in mumbles and ignored words. 

“Granger!” 

Hermione snapped awake when she heard Alavel’s voice barking at her in an eerily accurate imitation of Professor Snape. She found that people had been trying to get her attention for at least five minutes, but she hadn’t registered any of it. 

“Hermione, I know this is hard, but you’ve got to listen,” Sally-Anne said. “We’re going to take Rose’s… Rose to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey will look her over, and probably find nothing wrong with her. Just some strange reaction to the spell, but we both know she can’t be dead. It’s Rose.” 

“I’m afraid Fawkes can’t carry so many people,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Neville, I believe you are strong enough to carry Rose downstairs. If not, we can–” 

“I’ll carry her,” Neville said sharply, picking Rose up from the floor. 

Hermione fought to keep a hold of Rose, but a gentle hand on her shoulder from Sally-Anne convinced her to release Rose for the moment. That didn’t stop her from walking beside Neville the entire way to the Hospital Wing. Along the way, they picked up Professor Flitwick and Luna, and once there, they were met by Professors Sprout and Snape. 

Harry did his best to recount the events of that night to everyone as Madame Pomfrey checked Rose over for any signs of curses or injury. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Professor Sprout said. “Ellie’s still in her bed. I can’t tell that she ever left.” 

Hermione stayed focused on Rose, willing Madame Pomfrey to move faster, but not daring to get in the Mediwitch’s way. 

“There’s nothing that suggests she was attacked,” Madame Pomfrey informed them. “No life signs, but with her, that doesn’t mean anything. I’m detecting faint traces of a curse on her, but too much time has passed for me to tell with any certainty what it is.” 

“Could it be the killing curse?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“It could,” Madame Pomfrey replied. “It very well could, but–” 

“That’s not possible!” Hermione exclaimed. “It won’t work on her!” 

“Hermione, not even Rose is–” Sally-Anne began, but found she had more than one adversary in the room. 

“ _Veil of undeath_ blocks it!” Neville exclaimed. 

“And contingent _revivify_ would’ve activated anyway!” Luna added. “She can’t be dead!” 

“There’s a lot of mud on her boots,” Madame Pomfrey said, raising her voice to be heard as she indicated a clear buildup of mud that Hermione hadn’t noticed before. “Much more than if she’d stepped in something muddy; it’s covering them.” 

“Is that relevant?” Professor Snape asked. 

“We shouldn’t dismiss anything at this point,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Ms. Granger, does that seem significant to you?” 

Hermione ran through every spell _undermaster_ gave Rose. It only functioned if she “stood upon or beneath the earth”, so she might’ve coated her boots in dirt to work around that. Would she, though? Why just then? No, Rose did silly things like that all the time, it wouldn’t be _that_ odd. 

Unless… No, it couldn’t be. 

“Lady Brain,” Alavel said. “I believe you know what that is… Rather, _who_ that was.” 

All eyes turned from Alavel to Hermione. She stared at Rose, hoping she’d come back and Hermione wouldn’t need to say it. Saying it out loud would mean Rose was truly gone, and Hermione wasn’t sure if she could face it. 

“If you don’t–” 

“It’s Obtenebar. Homunculi turn to clay when their creator dies.” 

“Tutela’s still here!” Luna shouted. “It can’t be—” 

“Lady Rose created Tutela to withstand her death,” Alavel said. His normal commanding baritone faltered. “She believed it would be too much for you to lose them both.” 

Luna was the first to break down. Tears in her eyes, she picked up Tutela and held her close. Seeing Luna break down like that nearly broke Hermione. 

Rose was dead. 

None of it made sense to her, but the evidence was plain as day before her. 

Ron tried taking her hand when she began to cry, but she moved away from him. 

“I need to be alone for a moment.” 

Hermione left the Hospital Wing, not caring that it was past curfew, not caring that she was breaking the rules. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Rose was dead, and Voldemort wasn’t. Their very lives were on the line, but Rose wasn’t there to save them. It wasn’t just a pack of Death Eaters, it was Voldemort himself. 

But it was worse than that. Rose was the first friend she’d made at Hogwarts. The person that stood by her side no matter what the cost. She was Hermione’s best friend. In all her dreams about the upcoming years, Rose was the one constant. 

And now she was dead. 

* * *

_Rose Peta-Lorrum is dead._

The words danced around Hermione’s brain, blocking out all other thoughts as Professor Dumbledore informed the rest of the students about the events of the past night during breakfast. 

_Rose Peta-Lorrum is dead._

No one spoke to her, or if they tried, she ignored them. She couldn’t hear anything other than those words. 

She ran up to the seventh floor when breakfast ended, shoving her way through the crowd. 

“Hermione?” 

Voices blended together as people tried to stop her, but in her daze, she blocked them all out and focused on her task. She needed to get to the seventh floor, to that tapestry of trolls dancing around drunk. 

_I need a place to craft._

She ran back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement, ignoring her parents when they caught up to her. 

_I need a place to craft._

Obtenebar had reverted to clay, but there was no solid proof. It could’ve been mud from the graveyard for all she knew. It was possible that Obtenebar was hiding, that it was all just some sort of trick. 

_I need a place to craft._

Her parents stared wide-eyed as the entrance to the Room of Requirement grew into existence. Hermione wrenched the door open and found Rose’s crafting room. Everything was labeled in Dwarven runes, but the furnaces weren’t burning as they usually were. 

She scoured the room as her parents continued to stare in amazement. 

At last, she found what she was seeking. 

A lonely pile of clay sat next to one of the tables. She imagined the look of horror on Inar’s yellow face as he realized that Rose was dead. Had he been scared? Had he accepted his fate? Whatever his reaction had been, he’d had little time to think about it. Inar was gone. 

Rose was gone. 

Hermione fell to her knees next to the pile of clay and wept. An evil man was on the loose that would surely come after her before long, her best friend, the only person that could stop him, was dead, and there was nothing she could do about any of it. So she cried. 

“She’s gone,” Hermione sobbed as her parents tried to comfort her. “She’s really gone.” 

With Rose around, anything felt possible. The world was at their fingertips. All they had to do was try, but without her, it was all gone. They were powerless. 

Hermione and her parents left the Room of Requirement and began the journey back downstairs. No one spoke until they reached the ground floor. On their way out, they ran into Luna and her dad. 

Hermione and Luna looked at one another, holding a silent conversation. They both knew what the other was thinking: their best friend was gone. Hermione had never cared much for Luna when they first met. She talked just as much nonsense as Rose, but just then, Hermione would’ve given anything to hear more nonsense. So when Luna threw her arms around Hermione, Hermione did the same to Luna. 

“I suppose I won’t be seeing you next year,” Hermione said. “Good luck with–” 

“I won’t be leaving now,” Luna said. “Rose was part of the plan, but…” 

Luna’s voice trailed off, then she dissolved into tears again and squeezed Hermione tighter. 

“It’s alright,” Hermione said, determined to be strong for Luna. “We’ll get through this together, Little Moon. I promise.” 

“Thank you, Brain. I’m glad I’ve still got you.” 

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “We’ve got to stick together now. Who knows what’s gonna happen next?” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Luna said. 

She smiled as her whole body trembled in Hermione’s arms. A torrent of tears still streamed down her face, but she stubbornly refused to stop smiling. 

“Yeah, we will,” Hermione agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wraps up year four. Stay tuned for year five: _Hermione Granger and the Amber Abandonment_.


End file.
